


he's in a long black coat waiting for me in the downpour outside

by 1994harry (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Hate to Love, Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Not much smut sorry, Unfinished, homphobic language, i don't really know what to put, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:23:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4176297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/1994harry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Standing before him is the most beautiful man Harry's ever seen. He's in a dark blue suit, topped with a perfect quiff and ocean eyes. He's short but lean, minuscule amounts of stubble peppering his face, which brings Harry to realize how sharp his cheekbones are. He has soft features and Harry could put his smile within the stars, because it shines so brightly and makes warmth flow throughout his being.</p><p>or an au where Louis Tomlinson is one of Britain's most renowned drug dealers and Harry Styles is a college drop-out on a low budget living with his best mate Niall, and Harry can't help but wonder what's hiding beneath the surface of those blue pools of eyes.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	he's in a long black coat waiting for me in the downpour outside

_The pure and simple truth is rarely pure, and never simple._

_-Oscar Wilde._

 

"Will you fuckin' hurry up, Harry? We haven't got all day! It's almost seven for Christ’s sake!" Niall huffs, banging rapidly on the wooden door of Harry's bathroom.

"Away with you Niall! Jesus. I was just brushing my teeth," Harry scolds after opening the door while exiting the room. All he gets is an eye roll from the blonde-haired bloke. "Anyway, how do I look?" They both decided on meeting up with a few other friends and bouncing to a few nightclubs here and there after visiting this creepy abandoned warehouse they recently discovered that wasn't too far from Harrys little cottage house he inherited from his grandparents after they passed away. Niall's wearing a typical rolled up plain white t-shirt that falls to his thighs, skinny blue jeans and the usual high-top shoes he always wears. Harry estimates he's going to pull two girls tonight at the least. He, however, decided to chuck on a black trench coat, ripped skinny black jeans, a plain black shirt, and his stupid amazing suede boots that he loves too much to throw away. I mean, they cost a fucking fortune. He saved up for weeks just to get them. Let's not begin to talk about his quiff. It's all over the place. "You look great. Let's go!"

Sure, the cottage is out in the country but Harry owns a few horses and he's happy so all is well.

Niall's a great friend, he is. Piercing blue eyes and dirty blonde hair with a little brown growing through. A pretty thing if Harry does say so himself, though he tends to keep most thoughts buried deep in his mind.

After making sure the house is locked at least three times, they walk towards the direction of the warehouse, worn out suede boots and brand new white high-top shoes dragging against the gravel road. Barely anyone comes down this road which makes it easier for them to just sit in the middle of it and pass a drag or two around.

"There it is!" Niall's thick Irish accent could be heard from miles away. The building suddenly comes in to view and, wow, it looks creepy as hell. Cracked concrete and broken windows, the walls littered with dull graffiti images. Might as well be in a horror movie. "This is so creepy, Ni. Can't we just head to the club already?" Harry sighs, shoving his hands into fluffy jacket pockets. "Harry, you're the one that suggested we come here." and, oh. Niall's right. Oops.

Reluctantly, he gives in and follows his best friend slowly towards the building's entrance. "Wait. Let's climb through the windows. It seems more stealthy and cool, yeah?"

Honestly, fuck Niall and his stupid plans.

After getting his foot stuck between the window and its panel, Harry finally falls to the cold concrete floor with a thud. Followed by the weight of Niall on his back. "You could've at least waited." he can't help but shiver slightly. It's a little chilly out, and the holes in the windows don't provide much warmth anyway.

"Sorry, mate. I got my foot stuck too. Should try another way next time." Yeah, no shit.

Quietly, they explore the bottom level of the warehouse, Niall jumping in fright a few times and ducking behind Harry when a few rats hurry past them. After finding nothing but old desk chairs they messed around with for an hour and a half, jousting with rolled up carpets they found hidden in the corner of the room, Niall suggests going upstairs and exploring a bit more. And boy, what a mistake that was.

"We haven't explored the other side of the warehouse yet," he speaks up while they sit in silence on an old wooden table to the side of the room.

"Ni, you know there's going to be nothing there. We should head to the club now. I'll call an Uber." Harry solemnly suggests, pulling out his phone from his faded worn out jeans.

"Harry, don't be a tit. Let's explore more! Come on!" before Harry could complain Niall had already whipped his phone from his hand and shoved it into his own pocket.

Honestly, fuck Niall.

 

They not-so quietly make their way up the stairs, Harry running his pointing finger across the cold copper railing before rubbing the dust away with his thumb. "So fucking creepy in here." he mutters under his breath before abruptly stopping, chest colliding with Nialls back. "Shh! Shut up, Harry. Do you see that?"

It was quite frightening because Nialls voice was a frantic whisper. Averting his gaze to align with his pointing finger, Harry freezes. There's around ten men dressed in suits negotiating over what appears, from the large briefcases of cash and small bags lined neatly containing white powder, to be drugs. Harry and his beloved best friend just walked into the midst of a drug dealing. And, okay. Harry isn't one for drugs but he can't help but feel the slightest bit of attraction to the man in a dark blue suit, sitting at the end of an old white table smoking a drag. His cheekbones could slice Harrys' lips he seems to be biting on due to nervousness.

Both Harry and Niall are pulled from their thoughts when a large hand grasps the back of their collars, yanking them back. "Look here, lads! Got us some rats!" The man’s voice is deep and intimidating and Harry can't help but pee a little inside because he and Niall are probably going to die a long and agonizing death.

Oh god, and he didn't even get the blue ones name.

Harry and Niall are dragged downstairs, before being shoved to the floor. All eyes are on them, now. Including the pretty one; his eyes are blue and intense and Harry just wants to die right there. It isn’t until someone speaks up that he seriously contemplates his choices of death.

Standing before him is the most beautiful man Harry's ever seen. He's in a dark blue suit, topped with a perfect quiff and ocean eyes. He's short but lean, minuscule amounts of stubble peppering his face, which brings Harry to realize how sharp his cheekbones are. He has soft features and Harry could put his smile within the stars, because it shines so brightly and makes warmth flow throughout his being.

“Well? Speak up, we haven’t got all day. What were you doing snooping around getting into our business?” a rather broad-muscled one questions, doe brown eyes staring into Harrys own. Quickly glancing to Niall, he realises his eyes are wide and scared. “We- well,  _I_  found this building not far from my house a few months ago and I th-“ his breath hitches and Harry feels like a deer in the headlights with all of these eyes on him. “Thought we could check it out?” ending his sentence with a rather questioning tone, he ducks his head down, wet tears curving down his face and dripping slowly to the floor.

“Aw, the little one’s crying. How cute.”

Harry has so much to live for and he’s about to be slaughtered in an abandoned building by some drug dealers. Delightful.

“Sod off, Zayn. They’re nothing but teenagers, these two.” Harry glances up and it’s the pretty one talking. His blue eyes itching their way into his, mending themselves into his irises, blue stitches colliding with green. Harry glances down. Now is  _not_  the time to fantasize.

“Going soft, Louis?”

It sounds like the doe-eyed man from merely three minutes ago.

“Don’t prompt me, Liam. You know how I am with pretty ones.”

Lord, Harry can’t tell if he just peed or came.

“Any who, we’re unsure if we can trust these ones.” Harry can feel their glares burning into his temple, and he’s guessing Niall can feel it too based on the way his lips are pursed and cheeks flushed red.

“Then let’s kill them.”

And it was said so casually Harry is convinced everyone around them is discussing how to dispose of their bodies, or how they’re going to clean up the blood or who’s going to take the blame if they get ratted out. There’s too much tension in the room and Harry just wants to cry.

So he does.

“Please don’t kill us.” It’s muffled and raw and Harry probably looks like a right tit.

Everyone’s looking at him now, except for Niall who’s only given a few sad glances here and there. He glances up once more looking toward the blue-eyed one. Louis? He’s not sure, he’s kept his head down for so long it’s probably ready to fall off. Only hearing their voices.

“Oh dear, tiny, beautiful boy. Scared out of his life. Would you like some marshmallows with your hot chocolate? Perhaps let me sing you a lullaby by the-“

“Liam. Enough.”

Audible sniggers echoed throughout the empty building.

Harry wants to get this situation over and done with. He’s embarrassed enough as it is.

“Lads, our business is done here. Let Axel take his leave. Been a pleasure,” and with that, around half of the people collect the bags containing God knows what, neatly stacking them into their breifcases before exiting the building with smirks plastered onto their face. That leaves… Louis was it? Doe-eyed boy, smart mouth that wants to kill them, the body-guard that almost slam dunked them into the ground and Harry and Niall. Sitting awkwardly on the cold ground.

He hears a buzzing in Niall’s pocket. Oh fuck. His phone.

“Answer the phone, Z.”

With that, smart-mouth strides over and digs his hand into Niall’s jean pockets before fishing the phone out and tapping the answer button with one fluent motion. So that’s presumably Zayn, the one he dislikes most. Noted.

“Harry? What the fuck is going on! You were supposed to get to club hours ago!” It’s Nick. He arranges a lot of gatherings and goes to a lot of clubs. Not necessarily a friend, more or so someone Harry goes to if he wants to get into a few good clubs.

The phones on speaker but neither him nor Niall dare to speak.

“Sorry, love. He got a bit caught up with his dick shoved so far up my ass.”

“What?! Where’s-“

Zayn hangs up the phone and passes it to Louis, biting his lip in amusement.

“’M tired, Z. Let’s wrap this up. Take them outside. They’re big boys, they can walk themselves home. Keep an eye on them, though. Especially the curly one.” Louis(?) adds a wink towards Harry. Niall lets out a sigh of relief as they’re ushered to the exit by the large body-guard. As they’re about to leave and cuddle up together in fluffy blankets, (hey, Harry and Niall do it often when they’re both sad. No hating here.) the guard stops them.

“Tell a single soul and the last thing you’ll see is a gun pointed to your head.”

With that, they jog home. Because, okay, who would want to walk home at what? 9:00pm after being threatened? Nobody, that’s who. They also wanted to make sure no one was following them.

Opening the creaky door and toeing off their shoes, Niall makes a beeline towards Harry’s room. “Be a sweet and make me a tea, will ya’, H? I think we’ve both had a rough day today.” He calls and Harry allows a faint chuckle to escape his puffy lips. His tears are mostly dry and- oh. His phone is still back at the warehouse. Making a mental note of that, Harry waits for the kettle to stop boiling and pours the steamy liquid into their matching Christmas mugs.

“Seriously? You could’ve gotten our polka-dot ones, H. I am disappointed in you.” Niall laughs, sipping his tea nevertheless.

“Which episode of Pretty Little Liars are we watching today, Ni?” It’s kind of a thing for them to just chill in bed sipping tea while watching their favourite show. Comforting, and Harry sometimes gets sad because Niall’s his only friend and Niall has heaps of friends and they both dropped out of uni so it gets lonely when he’s out clubbing and Harry is lying alone in the lounge, channel surfing and, wow. Life is rough.

“Think it was the one where Emily kisses Ali, remember?”

“Oh, oh yeah. I remember.”

They watch in silence, until of course, Niall falls asleep first. Typical.

Harry was so into the scene now, he’s sad he won’t be able to rant to Niall about what character fucked up and who should be together and what-not, and then Harry remembers he has work tomorrow teaching elder people yoga and Niall has a party that night so Harry will be alone with his right hand and thoughts of pretty blue eyes in a dark suit with a perfect quiff.

Honestly, fuck Niall.

 

 

The amber sun seeps through the white blindfolds and Harry yawns, kicking his feet over the side of the bed so he can stretch, raising his arms in strange angles before rolling his shoulder blades. It’s around 10:30am and Harry has work at 12:00pm so he should be fine. Niall’s still asleep, could sleep through a fucking tornado if he wanted to. He does have his own bed, but Harry doesn’t mind if he climbs in his in the middle of the night and they spoon for a while.

He finally stands up, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand and pads quietly into the kitchen, waiting for the jug to boil, carding a hand through his messy hair as he does so.

Once it’s finally done he makes an extra for Niall and walks back into his room, placing it on the nightstand.

It’s been around fifteen minutes and Niall finally wakes up, judging by the loud groaning and rustling of bed sheets coming from Harrys’ room. “This tea is amazing, such a lad you are, H! You should get out more. Go into the city and get some Starbucks or ‘summit.” Niall’s voice gets louder as he steps into the lounge, putting the mug on the coffee table and flopping his body next to him. And, okay. That conversation took a turn.

“I’m good thanks, Ni. Thank you for your concern though, I know how much you want the house to yourself tonight so you can fuck some brunette into the mattress.” And Niall literally cackles at that, throwing his head back and clapping a hand over his thigh. “You know me too well, H. Oh! And some mail-man came by last night but I was too tired to answer the door. ‘Is strange because we don’t normally get mail.”

“I’ll get it,” and before Harry could fall back asleep on the couch he gets up and jogs towards the front door.

In messy writing, (let’s be real, Harry has seen a five year old write better than that.) is a small box with the words  _Harry Styles_ written across the top.

He opens it cautiously, revealing his long-lost phone with a small note plastered to it.

 _You left this._  
        _L_  
  
 “Just my phone,” he breathes, walking back into the lounge after shutting the door not-so-smoothly with his socked feet. Discarding the box into the rubbish can, he receives a weird look from Niall.

“You left your phone in the abandoned building.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, if they know where you live someone must’ve been following us.”

“Niall,” he begins to laugh quietly, breathing from his nose.

“What?”

“Our nearest neighbours are in the city. We’re the only house in this region that’s even remotely close to the abandoned building. Even if it’s a half hour walk.”

“Oh.” He turns back towards the television, turning it on with a remote.

Harry doesn’t press the conversation any further so he quickly goes back into his room and changes into his work outfit; slim athletic pants that end just below his knee and a casual black singlet.

  
“Horses, right. Need to feed the horses.”  
Making a beeline for the front door and stepping outside, Harry throws his wellington boots on and trudges towards the stables.

  
“Hi, loves.” He drawls out, rubbing a soft hand over a white horses forehead, kissing her nose softly. She has one black patch of fur at the tip of her nose, and Harry thought it was cutest thing ever, the horse earning the name of Tip. Okay, it’s not that good but she’s cute and fun to ride so whatever. He also has a brown and white Clydesdale horse that Niall sometimes loves to ride called Feathers, like the tufts by her hooves. Harry’s not all that rich but he’s a good saver and bought them a while after he inherited some of his grand-parents money.

After making a gracious return and basically throwing his boots off, he finds Niall wrapped up in two mink blankets eating breakfast.

“I take it you’re not working today?”

“Nah.” He scrunches up his nose, slurping a spoonful of cornflakes. Niall occasionally works at a coffee shop in the city which is strange because he can’t make a tea if his life depended on it.

“Okay, I think I have work now so please do not trash the house when I’m gone!” Harry checks the clock ticking aimlessly above the television, receiving an offended glare from Niall. And before the blonde could protest, Harry is out the door, chucking on his pair of neon green/yellow Nikes and scooting into the drivers seat of his truck.

“Stupid traffic. This is why I hate the city,” Harry mutters, clutching one hand onto the steering wheel and another holding his warm Starbucks cup. He thinks back to last night, the man in the dark blue suit and intense blue pools of eyes Harry could basically swim around in. It’s bad. Not only because he was almost going to potentially die that night, but he can see the man exiting a tailor’s shop as he thinks.

Wait. What the fuck?

Quickly ducking his head to avoid his stare, the light goes green and thank fuck because it would’ve been awkward to have a semi once he enters the work building where around ten ladies over the age of seventy will be watching him. Harry hits the pedal quickly, raising his head once the man in blue was out of sight as he takes a left.

“That’s a wrap for today, ladies. Don’t forget to do the squats I taught you!” Harry bows, clasping two hands together before being bombarded with wet kisses and cheeky slaps to his bum, his face basically stained with pink and red lipstick. 

While the over-friendly ladies gather their things and leave, Harry thoroughly washes his face in the tiny stalls.

As he exits into the main room with far too many mirrors, he's greeted by Louis, Zayn and the doe-eyed boy whose name he couldn’t bother to remember standing in the middle of the room with the same body-guard as before hovering by the stairs that lead to the main entrance.

“I think it’s time we formerly introduce ourselves.” The man in blue, Louis, speaks, aimlessly rubbing two hands together.

 

 

Harry is stunned. Well, more than stunned. Scared, really. He examines the mens’ faces, expressionless and unreadable.

“Okay,” Harry barely whispers, long fingers playing with the hems of his shirt nervously, their eyes are itching into his own, clawing their way into his soul. Well, he may be over-exaggerating in the slightest.

“This is Zayn,” Louis finally speaks up and motions towards the one in a black suit. If he wasn’t such an arse Harry would say he’s quite beautiful. Long eyelashes and golden eyes topped with a perfect quiff. “Liam,” he continues, and ah. Doe-eyed boy. Quite broad and intimidating. His hair looks soft, though. About time he learnt his name. “Phillip,” this time Louis smirks, and Phillip nods.  
“And I am-“but before he could finish Harry nods. “Louis. I know.” His expression is mostly taken aback with a hint of amusement.

“Better remember that for when you’re moaning his-“

“Liam.”

“Right, sorry mate.”

“How do you know my name?” Harry inquires, a little wearily. Louis’ lip twitches slightly.

“I know people. Did you tell anyone about last night?”

“No.”

“Good.”

All is silent for a while before Liam coughs, a little too obviously at that. “Oh, um. Thank you for returning my phone.” Harry gets a nod from Louis, and wow. The tension in the air is uncanny. “We’ll be keeping tabs on you, Harry. You won’t tell anyone about our deal back at the warehouse, okay?” it’s silent for three agonizing seconds and Harry doesn’t exactly know what to say. Louis purses his lips.  “Good.” Before Harry could do anything further, he turns on his heels and walks downstairs towards the main entrance, expensive leather shoes clicking with each step he takes before fading, the others following quietly behind.

It’s around 7:00pm when Harry finally gets home, he decided to work extra shifts and help out at the bakery with Bessie. He may have guiltily explored more of the city because he only goes there for work. After opening the door and toeing off his shoes, he makes a beeline for the couch and, wow, Niall actually cleaned up. He’s not as much of a pig as Harry thought.

Niall’s already left for the club, as Harry can tell so far because the air is stained with Hugo Boss cologne.

After feeding the horses once more and leading them into the paddock, Harry boils the jug, sips his tea happily and watches re-runs of Friends before falling asleep.

Though, it’s the buzzing on the kitchen bench that startles Harry from his sleep. Groaning internally before reluctantly getting up to answer it, he blinks heavily as the white light smacks his face, answering the phone.

“Hello?” his voice probably sounds the least bit attractive, but after checking the clock on the wall Harry notices it’s past 4:30am.

“Harry, hey man! Come down to the club!” it’s Niall and his voice is too energetic and he’s probably drunk and Harry just wants to slap the energy from that boys god damn body.

Rubbing a palm over his left eye sleepily, Harry huffs. “Niall it’s almost 5:00am. Let me sleep.” The stupid club music is booming through his phone and Harry just wants to throw his phone at a wall.

“You’re too lonely, Harry! Come to the club, meet my friends!” and, no. Harry doesn’t like to socialize that often. He likes to get lost in books or horseback riding or cheesy sitcoms or just cuddle.

“Ni, I’m going to sleep. Have a good time.”

With that, he hangs up and sets his phone on ‘do not disturb’ for the remainder of the night.

“Last night was fuckin’ sick mate, I’ll tell ya! The amount of beautiful girls there were. The drinks were amazing! Fucking great! You should’ve come!” Niall roars while eating a mouthful of spaghetti. Harry insisted them spending the day and walking around because it’s Sunday and neither of them have work today. You can only ride horses so many times. “I was quite enjoying my show, thank you Niall.” He raises both brows and sips on some caramel mocha thing, the warm liquid swimming nicely down his throat.

The sun is beaming down and they’re sitting outside of a café, admiring the tall buildings. Which, actually look quite dull. “Ooh, man. Next week’s going to be wild. Please come, H! It’s my friends birthday, you see,” Niall leans back, patting his stomach with one hand and another on the arm rest of the chair. Before he could continue and ramble on about how drunk he’s going to get, Harry laughs. “Alright, alright. Chill out. I’ll come.” Which earns a shit-eating grin from him. “Mate, you need more friends, seriously. Bessie and I are some old farts,” which makes Harry chuckle because both him and Niall are nineteen, so. He’s basically calling Harry old. Thanks mate.

They walk in silence around the city, Niall occasionally dragging Harry into his favourite stores, making him try on expensive clothes with collections of “this would look so good on you, mate!’’s and “you suit black so well, get these boots next time! Oh and that fedora!”’s and Harry just laughs along because Niall is the best friend he could ever ask for and his life is just so great.

So that’s why they end up going clubbing that night.

 And Niall gets absolutely hammered. As always.

“I parked my truck not far from here, let’s go.” Harry insists, one arm wrapped behind Nialls back. And Niall mumbles a few incoherent words he doesn’t bother translating. They walk in the dark for a while, Harry only had a few drinks and made one friend so I think the night was somewhat successful.

Pushing him into the back seat, Harry shuts the door and enters the drivers side. “Please don’t vomit in my car, Ni.” All he can hear is soft giggles before Niall’s out like a light.

They’re almost home and Harry can’t help but think about Louis.  _LouisLouisLouis._ He doesn’t even know the guy but there’s something about him. He’s so mysterious and gorgeous and he’s probably straight, which doesn’t make things any easier. His hair looks so fluffy and Harry just wants to- no. No this is wrong. He’s a  _drug dealer_ and Harry will not end up wanking over his face tonight. No.

But he does just that, after he’s put Niall  _in his own bed_ for once before entering the shower and thinking about how pretty Louis’ lips would look around his flushed cock.

The night of the party eventually rolls around and Harry and Niall are getting ready. It’s only 10:00pm but the party really kicks off in an hour, which gives them some time. “Which cologne, H? Hugo Boss or this Calvin Klein one I bought yesterday?” Harry tilts his head from side to side. “Mmm, Hugo for sure mate.” A clap on his neck is Nialls way of giving thanks.

Once Niall’s finally out of the shower, Harry disappears to brush his teeth and quiff up his hair. It’s pretty much the only hairstyle he knows and has. He puts on a plain black button up and for once and normal skinny jeans with surprisingly no knee rips in them. It’s a blessing he bought new boots the other day because no way in hell would he wear his worn out suede ones to a friends party. He begins rolling up his sleeves until they’re just below his elbow before washing his face.

“A lot of work to do just for a friends party don’t you think, H?” Niall inquires, leaning against the doorframe outside the bathroom. “Heeey,” Harry drawls out, pouting and turning around to poke him in the chest lightly. “You know I don’t go out much. Besides, maybe a few cute guys might be there. I want to look good.” That being said, Niall chuckles and shakes his head before leaving to actually put on clothes. He’s been aimlessly walking around with a towel around his waist for at least fifteen minutes.

“Ready to go, H?” Niall calls from the lounge. Harry’s in his room still deciding which cologne to use. “Ah, fuck it. I’ll go with Tom Ford. It’s the only good one I have left.” he mutters to himself before spraying a bit across his body. “Yeah, Ni. Let’s go!”

They arrive at Nialls friends house and the party is buzzing. Harry can honestly say this is one of the biggest houses he’s ever seen in his nineteen years. “C’mon, H. The party’s only just begun!” Niall whoops, opening and closing the door of Harrys truck rather harshly.

They enter and, Niall was not kidding when he said the place was buzzing. There’s people everywhere, most of them holding typical red beer cups. Martin Garrix is playing rather loudly and there’s so many people dancing Harry ends up losing Niall. He manages to find the kitchen where a large amount of alcohol is lined up neatly and pours himself a shot of cola and vodka.

He ends up exploring the house, which is probably the rudest thing he’s ever done but he managed to walk in on people having sex about three times.

It isn’t until he enters a room at the end of the hall when he walks in on something that is certainly not sex.

There’s around five people sitting on a couch with a coffee table in front of them and what appears to be cocaine lined up neatly splayed in front of them. “Oh!” He quickly lets out a nervous laugh and moves to exit the door, “Sorry, sorry! Please continue.” And right when he turns on his heels an unfamiliar voice suddenly speaks up. “Hey, kid. Come do some lines with us.” And oh god Harry’s never felt more uncomfortable in his life. It isn’t until he turns and sees Louis in the middle of the couch, arms on either side of it and his legs spread apart slightly, a faint smirk plastered on his face.

“Oh, no I’m fine. But thank you.” Harrys eyes are glued to Louis’, although he’s talking to someone else. Attempting to not scan his entire body. Minutes pass in silence and with a quick and awkward wave, Harry stumbles out the door and closes it, jogging downstairs.

Harry finally manages to find Niall, flirting with this blonde girl. “Niall,” he huffs. “Hang on, babe, I’ll be with ya’ in a moment,” Niall smiles, rubbing the girls arm before turning his full attention to Harry. She looks annoyed. Oh well. “This better be good, Harry, Or I-“but he’s abruptly cut off with Harrys words. “The people. In the abandoned warehouse. They’re here, oh god. They’re in this house, Niall! I walked in on a bunch of them and they were snorting coke and oh man. What do we-“

“Harry,” Niall draws out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What? Why are you so calm?!” he probably looks like a mess right now in front of all of these people that aren’t even paying attention to him.

“I think we both know they weren't actually going to kill us.” He laughs, patting Harrys arm lightly.

“Niall, you were internally crying.”

“Yeah, but. Listen, we came out alive so that’s all that matters. Go make some friends, you have like two people on your contacts list in your phone.” And Harry swears Niall is high, though doesn't press the latter.

“Fine.” Okay, Harry will admit he actually pouted. Walking around the house boredly, it’s safe to say he won’t be making any new friends tonight. He sighs, realising that he can’t just leave Niall here to do his business because he doesn't trust Niall with his car due to how absolutely smashed he is. Or, is going to get. Yeah.

The man in blue is still tucked away in his mind, Harry’s aching to talk to him. Although, using his common sense it would be stupid to. Because hey, they threatened to kill them, so.  
Harry decides to be a little rebellious and thinks about climbing the side of the house to smoke a drag and get lost in his thoughts.

So, it’s only natural that he does exactly that.

He manages to find a ladder nearby and line it up as accurately as he can before climbing slowly. The rooftop is flat, thank fuck. He doesn't want to be sitting on a slope.

Sitting down and lighting up a cigarette before taking a long breath, he breathes out calmly. “The man in blue. What a description of a man.” Another puff of smoke.

He decides to play a little Arctic Monkeys. And though the upbeat party music is far too loud, he turns it on full volume and gets lost in his thoughts. This all feels so… he doesn’t even want to use the word. Indie. Smoking on a rooftop alone with Arctic Monkeys playing. Harry cringes at the thought.

“Interesting music taste, you have there.” Comes an unfamiliar voice.

Harry whirls his head around and almost gets whiplash. “How long have you been here?” he can barely recognise the silhouette and voice of the figure but he knows he’s heard it somewhere.

“The man in blue. What a description for a man.” He mocks. And, oh. It’s Louis. “Might I ask who this man is?” His curvy body walks towards Harry, sitting beside him. Blue eyes staring into green. “You can ask,” Harry scoffs, looking down at the empty street lined with lamps and cars, the front yard of the house littered with beer cans and red cups. Not the best sight Harry’s seen. “But you won’t get an answer.” This time he properly turns to face Louis.

“Sassy, tonight aren’t we? Did Niall leave you all alone with your right hand?” Louis taunts, Harry doesn’t even need light to see the smirk plastered on his stupid pretty face.

“Are all drug dealers so cocky or is it just your clique?” Harry snaps, taking another long puff of smoke. There, that shut him up.

There’s a long pause.

“Just my clique, I think.” And it’s said so smoothly Harry wants to punch him. He literally balls his fists and digs half-moons into his own thighs to stop himself. Louis seems to notice, though.

“Harry. You can’t touch me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I know people. Very powerful people. And if you so much as lay a finger on me,” he cocks his head and stares into the open sky like he’s thinking. “What did Phillip say again? Ah, yes. The last thing you’ll see is a gun to your head.” What a twat. How could Harry’ve been so stupid to think this man was even remotely cute.

“Well. I’d rather be dead than followed around by your clique or whatever. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think they’re singing happy birthday.” Harry shoots back before standing up and hooking a leg over the side of the roof to climb down.

No new friends.

“Happy birthday to youuu!” the crowd inside hollers, clinking their red cups and bottles of beer together. “Alfredo, my man! Have a good one.” Niall slurs, leaning against the wall. “Uh, same.” Harry forces a grin. He sucks at socializing. “Thanks Harry. Let the real party begin!” Alfredo yells and everyone agrees in unison. It’s already 2:00am.

It’s going to be a long night.

Harry and Niall eventually made their way home last night, Harry having to push the blonde-haired drunk mess into the back of his truck. Again. (“Niall, please try not to vomit in my car.” “Can’t promise anything, curly!” He laughed as he doubled over and hurled the contents of that night all over the seats.)

Now they’re lying about in the lounge playing PlayStation, Harry having a mild hangover and Niall groaning every ten minutes about his headache. Harry pauses the game and glances towards his best friend, who’s already looking at inquisitively. “’M gonna go take a drive,” Harry breathes before pushing himself from the dirty old couch and making his way to the front door. Opening it and turning around, he plasters a smile onto his face, dimples showing and all. “Call me if you need anything, Ni!” and with a wave of his hand, Harry shuts the door and walks towards his truck. He’d managed to wipe down his seats thoroughly with large amounts of soap and cloth. It didn’t work too well but it got the smell out at least.

Trees whirl past in a blur as he drives, soft patters of rain begin falling  _‘Do You Wanna Dance’_  by the Ramones plays quietly. With both hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel, knuckles white, Harrys mind ponders to Louis. The man who was so intimidating yet so small, the man who controlled large amounts of men with just a flick of his hand yet Harry felt he had a playful side the first night they met, when he muttered something and Louis quirked the right side of his lip up just the slightest.

Now he’s driving towards the city.

It’s a long drive, an hour tops but it gives him time to escape and think.

Harry’s pulled out of his thoughts when his car begins to slow down, puttering loudly.

He mutters a few cuss words before pulling over to the side and carding a hand through his quiff. Since when did he forget to fill up the truck? He never forgets.

Staring into the open, he whips out his phone and types a quick text to Niall.

_Hey, Ni. Car broke down. Send help? X_

Throwing his phone to the opposite seat and running both hands through his hair, he leans his head and mass of curls on the steering wheel, rather roughly it seems, as the car horn loudly goes off along with his phone. Quickly raising his head and swiping his curls away, Harry picks up his phone.

_Harry , there’s only one car im afraid ! Get an Uber or something_

_My phone’s on 4%. Wasn’t charging properly last night._

_Go ask ya boyfriend , what was his name again ??_

_He’s not my boyfriend, Niall. And his name is Louis. I’m not asking him._

_Why not ?_

_Maybe because he almost killed us, remember?_

Harry’s getting tired of Niall forgetting the whole act they did that night. It’s been a week and Harry still has it on replay in the back of his mind.

_Pussy_

Harry’s about to type some witty remark when there’s a soft knock at his window, startling him from the direction of his phone. Eyes following the noise, green eyes melt into blue.

It’s Louis.

He's standing outside with an umbrella, black SUV parked behind Harrys.

Winding a window down, Harry furrows his eyebrows. “Can I help you?” he says coldly. That earns an eye roll from Louis. “Not necessarily, but it does look like you need help. You know, with what your car appears to broken down and that.” One of Louis’ ever-so-famous smirk tugs at his lips. “I’m quite alright, thank you. I was going to take an-“ he’s quickly cut off by Louis. “Let me take you to lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“My treat, of course.”

Harry contemplates this situation.

“How do I know you won’t murder me with your little buddies?” another eye roll from Louis.

“Because it’ll just be us.” Something sputters in Harrys heart. “Now, come if you will but the least I could do is drive you home.”

Pursing his now purple lips, (it’s too cold for this and the rain has gotten heavier) Harry allows a faint smile to grow.

“I know a good place in town hardly anyone knows, they make the best muffins.”

 

 

"You weren't wrong, Harry," Louis nods in approval while popping a few crumbs in his mouth, his slim fingers daintily picking apart the banana muffin clasped in his hand. They're located in the furthest booth at the back in a small cafe, the rain has cleared and Harry wonders how Niall's doing.

He's startled out of his thoughts when Louis gently pokes him in the arm with a fork. "You alright there, lad? Looked a bit spaced out for a few minutes." blue eyes flitting between Harrys own and the window he appears to be staring through. Very slowly detaching his eyes from the birds sitting above in the tree outside, Harry turns his head to face Louis.  
"Yeah, sorry. It's just-" Harrys waves his hands around a bit before he gives up and drops them to his lap. "Don't worry."

Louis' eyes are puddled with concern and worry, though he doesn't press the latter. Bless him.

"My car," Harry begins, raising a hand to bite at his thumb nail. It wasn't initially what was climbing into his thoughts earlier, but that's a problem for another day. "It's still broken down and my phone died a while ago," Louis is watching intently, faintly nodding as he continues to pick apart his muffin. Harry continues and tries not to let his thoughts get the best of him. "So I can't call Niall. And I don't want to keep you waiting. I can walk?" Almost immediately after he finishes his sentence Louis shakes his head. "No, I can drive you home."  
This is certainly an improvement to their... friendship? Harry says as much which earns him a playful eye roll. Bastard.

"Also, I'm uh, sorry about being a... twat the other night."

"Don't sweat it, lad. We were both high, eh?" Louis nudges Harrys foot from under the table. Yes, right... high. Before Harry could correct Louis, he stands, momentarily freezing Harry with his mouth agape. "Ready to go now?"

Oh, Louis was going to drop Harry home. He almost forgot.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm ready."

 

"About damn time you got home, H!" Niall scowls, sitting in an awkward position on the sofa while playing some weird zombie video game. "Well, have ya' fucked him yet?" that causes Harry to spit out little bits of water back into his cup. "Niall.."  
"Did you at least get a blowjob in the car?" he pauses the game and turns to face Harry, who's standing by the sink in the kitchen, refilling his glass cup.

Harry hates him. He really does.

"Niall, say one more thing and I'll..." his sentence falters for a few seconds too long, a smirk growing more and more on Nialls face every passing second. "Pour this cup of water over your head."

They both know Harry wouldn't do that.

Niall's all dressed up when Harry is bare-foot in only grey sweatpants stirring a pot of noodles over the stove. "Going out again?" He's met with a nod as the blonde claps his hand over Harrys neck and smacks a kiss to his temple before ambling out the door. Niall parties a lot, too often in fact. Sometimes Harry fears for his lungs and livers, seeing as though he's known to yell quite frequently at parties and get heavily intoxicated, causing Harry to pick him up and drive him home safely.

He lives quite a simple life, though. So he's not complaining. That doesn't mean it's a pleasantry driving out a few miles wasting precious gas just to get a 10% concious Irish man.

Harry's about to turn off the stove when his phone buzzes on the counter, the same place he'd most likely left it earlier today. It's probably Niall texting him saying he forgot something. Flicking the stove switch off, he pads towards his phone to read the screen.

The name Louis Tomlinson flashes across it before disappearing.

Harry doesn't recall him and Louis exchanging numbers? Maybe Louis did it when he gave Harry his phone back.

It rings again, and this time Harry answers.

"Louis?"

"Harry." he doesn't sound too amused.

"Uh, how did you get my number?" Harry cards a hand through his hair, scratching at the scalp. Louis appears to have ignored the question, only faint breathing being heard on the other line. "Lou-"

"Are you busy?" Is he drunk... or high? The world may never know.

"No, why?"

"I'm bored. And in need of company. Zayn and Liam went to a friends party." Why does this all sound so familiar? "I'll pick you up in half an hour." and with that, Louis hangs up. That may or may not have been the strangest conversation Harry's had over the phone.

Thankfully, Louis somehow managed to get Harry's truck towed, but the nearest petrol station is just past the city. Looks like he'll be walking for a while. Or biking, if he saves up enough.

A black SUV is parked out front, Louis sitting in blue jeans and an Adidas jumper drowning his small body, his legs propped up on the dashboard and a lollipop wedged between one of his small hands. A pink tongue gracefully making an appearance every now and then.  _Images_.

After making sure the house was locked and all the windows were shut, Harry stumbles towards the passenger side of the car, opening the door and climbing in before shutting it. 

"Where are we going?" he manages to ask once Louis had removed his feet and started up the engine. This side of Louis is all very new to Harry, he's not dressed in suits or constantly smirking. He's more like confident and open. Maybe Harry will let the whole drug thing slide. It's not as though he's thought about it much, anyway. Being the only thing he does is party with Niall, explore the city, ride his horses and talk to Bessie.

"My apartment."

It's about an hours drive, but it gives Harry enough time to think. He also can't stop glancing at Louis, who's still sucking on the same lollipop. 

Louis seems to notice though, save for his half-smirks and how he would sometimes stare at Harry whilst as a stop light, darting his tongue in and out, rolling it around the flat sugary red surface. Harry hates him.

They eventually round a corner and Louis begins driving down this long concrete drive-way, small trees littered to the left and right with a marvellous red two-story brick house waiting at the end. 

"This isn't your apartment?" Harry asks in confusion, eyes tracing the white door and clean bay windows.

"Did I say apartment? I think I meant house." Louis snickers, finally finishing his lollipop before discarding it into a built-in bin underneath the dashboard.

"It's... big." Harry manages to squeeze out, still frozen in the passenger seat.

"Go big or go home. Come in, I'll show you around. We'll order pizza and be lazy." Louis hits him lightly on the shoulder before exiting the car.

Is it just Harry or is Louis acting as though they're friends? Either way he's not complaining all that much.

"Mi casa es su casa," Louis smiles, putting a key in the lock and opening the door to the house before stepping inside. Harry does the same, toeing off his worn-out Converse he decided to wear and curling his toes in his socks. "That's such a cliche thing to say," he mutters, although he can't help stopping the grin fall between his lips. A large German Shepard strides towards Harry, and begins sniffing his crotch. "That's Stanley. He loves people," Louis laughs, reaching down and running a hand down the dogs back, fingers curling to knead into the soft skin above its spine. And if he were to look up now, Harry would probably have the fondest smile on his face.

"I just remembered I have to work out soon. Order pizza and make yourself at home?" He raises the half of his body, turning to Harry while Stanley pads away into another room. Clapping Harry softly on the back before ambling up the stairs, Harry is left alone.

Well, so much for company.

He decides to do... something like that, peeping into a few rooms (who in the right mind has three bathrooms for one person? Louis, that's who.) and ordering pepperoni pizza. Harry's not sure what Louis likes but he'll have to suck it up. That would be his payback for leaving Harry. Did Louis ever mention how long his work-out was?

After aimlessly wandering around the house with Stanley at his feet, Harry decides to check up on Louis. It's been half an hour and he should be done soon anyway.  
Arthur must have the same idea because he begins running towards the stairs, claws tapping on the white marble tiles before getting quieter as he reaches the carpeted steps.  
Harry eventually follows, cold socked feet following quietly to where the large dog headed. It's down the hall to the right, small bits of light slipping through the ajar door. Harry knocks quietly before entering, and it's clear he didn't knock loud enough.

Because there's Louis.

In the corner.

Doing squats.

Naked.

His back is turned to Harry, and he should leave. Harry needs to leave  _right now_. The pizza delivery person is probably waiting downstairs but his eyes are glued to Louis, exploring every inch of his body he can see. His skin is beautiful and tan and he has so many tattoos and two dimples in his back at the bottom of his spine and the curve and swell of his bum is so arousing. Harry's pretty sure he's fully hard just by looking at the art that is Louis. He wants to get wrecked by Louis. He wants Louis to ride him, knead his thumbs into his plump arse-cheeks while he's bouncing on Harrys cock, he wants to mark him up and say  _"mine. All mine"_.

But his fantasy is ruined when Stanley suddenly barks, sending panic through Harry causing him to shut the door quietly and run through the hallway down the stairs just as the doorbell rings. Opening the door with his cheeks flushed, Harry is thankful it's the delivery girl and accepts the pizza, digging out as much as he can from his pockets.

"Hey now, love. I'm paying," Louis appears behind Harry followed by Arthur with a towel wrapped around his waist. He's so sweaty and Harry just wants to run his hands down Louis' chest and kiss him everywhere. "Oh, uh, thanks." he gives Louis a lop-sided smile as he pays the delivery girl, closing the door and heading into the kitchen with one hand holding the pizza and another fixing his bulge from underneath the towel.

They finish the pizza and are lounging about on Louis' couch while they both watch Grease. Harry's mostly watching Louis though, how his face lights up whenever they start singing. You could say he's grown to like Louis a little. As a friend, of course.

He falls asleep with his ankles twisted between Louis' and a faint smile on his face, skin warm from the contact.

Maybe Harry will store these memories of Louis in his pocket and he can take them out whenever he's sad.

 

  

Harry woke up alone in his bed, a dry patch of drool lay on his lips. Groaning before rolling over and feeling around for his phone, unlocking it and checking the time, he sighed. Louis must have dropped him off after he fell asleep. He wonders how he even got into Harrys house but honestly Harry's not even surprised at this point.

It's Wednesday so Niall would most likely be working. God knows what he gets up to. It was three in the afternoon, which means Harry himself missed work and would most likely have to scoop up some extra money elsewhere because if he vaguely remembers, they were out of milk. And cereal. And bread. Their fridge was basically empty. Harry noticed he was still wearing his jeans, clung tight around his thighs. Wiggling out of them and getting out of bed, he made his way towards the kitchen in just his briefs to brew up some nice hot- wait. They were out of milk.  _And_  coffee. Right. Today was going to be a long day.

 

  

"Always nice having you around, hun," Bessie smiled, letting a cheeky pinch to Harry's bum slip through her fingers. "Not a problem, Bess. Call me if you need anything." Harry replied with a dimpled grin before Bessie began waving him off, ushering him out the back of the bakery doors, stopping once he was outside in the alley.

"Harry," her smile was back.

"Yeah?"

"Go make some friends."

He wasn't eleven for God's sake. Harry didn't need friends. He had Niall. And... his horses.  _Which_  he did thankfully remember to feed this morning. Niall's no help, he may be able to ride them in company of Harry but that doesn't mean he's not scared of them.

"Okay." Harry forced a strained smile and hugged her with one arm before walking off.

 ** _Niall Horan_**  flashes on Harry's phone for a brief moment. He was sitting in his car munching on a salad and sipping some strange strawberry-melon smoothie thing. Putting his smoothie in the cup holder, Harry picks up his phone.

_Hey mate , sick prty 2night. , Wana come ??_

Oh, the joys of Niall and his very punctual texts.

_Sure._

_Ok , ill text you the adress. Meet @ home in 45 min ?_

_Alright, see you then. X_

_Dont give me kisses_

Harry chuckles before pocketing his phone and resuming to his salad.

 

  

"One Shirley Temple, please." Harry ordered, the bartender nodding before preparing the drink.

"So," Niall grinned beside him, punching him in the arm lightly before taking a shot of vodka from the bar counter, not once wincing. How that boy handles so much alcohol Harry will never know. "Made any friends yet?" Of course the subject of friends comes up. "Not yet, Ni. But I have my morals straight and will certainly not be having sex tonight." The bartender returns with his drink, Harry nodding a thanks and taking it with a small sip. "When was the last time you had a good shag, H?" Niall sighs, poking Harry in the cheek while he continues to bite on his straw. "Dunno, I think around-" he's quickly cut off when Niall suddenly stops poking and drops his hand, jerking his head in front of him. Frowning, Harry turns to see Louis, Liam and Zayn entering the club, women ogling at them from their seats.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Harry starts, but his eyes lock with Louis'. He may have hung out with him  _one time_  and perhaps enjoyed it, but he won't befriend Louis. Not now, not ever. He is a drug dealer and Harry can't get that fact out of his mind. He wonders how many people Louis has killed. How many times he's probably gotten away with it.

Quickly breaking eye contact, he turns to his best friend. "Ni, can we go now?" Harry pulls on Nialls jacket, playing with a stray hem. He decides to take his chances, pouting a little. With his bottom lip jutting out, eyes gleaming with the clubs disco lights reflection he could most likely get Niall to say yes.

"Lads," Louis suddenly speaks up, getting him to turn around and almost get whiplash. His face hides a knowing smirk. "Fancy seeing you 'ere, eh?" Harry grits his teeth. "Johnson! Be a good lad and whip us up some shots," Louis barks towards the bartender that was serving Harry merely ten minutes ago. "What are you doing here, Louis?" Harry hisses. He wanted to have a good time tonight, but  _no,_  Louis always has to appear out of nowhere. "And for the record, I'm not telling anyone about the warehouse. So you can stop stalking me now."

"Oh  _Harry_ ," Louis coos in his strong accent, reaching a hand towards his face. Harry doesn't take it and smacks it away harshly, receiving an offended glare.  _Good_. He thinks. The bastard needs to know boundaries. Zayn and Liam beside him clench their jaws, running a tongue over their teeth with closed lips. They look like they're going to eat him alive, though Harry stands his ground nevertheless. Louis continues.

"First off, I own this club." Well then. "Secondly, as a man of many talents, this is only one of the times you've caught me." Hang on. Does this mean Louis' been watching him 24/7 without him even knowing? What a fucking creep.

The bartender returns with five shot glasses and Harry notices Niall's been quiet ever since Louis and his possey came over.

"Hey," he whispers while the other three gather around the bar counter to claim their drinks. "You still wanna take my offer and leave this place? We can watch Desperate Housewives." Niall is still silent for a few moments before he sighs quietly, mostly to himself. "Harry, why did we do that?"

"Do what?" He asks, in genuine confusion.

"Why did we go the abandoned warehouse when we did, if we didn't- _argh!_ " he kicks at the floor before lowering his head and running his hands down his face in what appears to be frustration. "If we didn't go, if we had just gone to the club that night. That  _one_  night, Harry! He's almost yelling and Harry tells him to lower his voice. Niall obliges with a short nod and a sorry.

Harry realises Niall's just as bad as he is, he wonders how long he's been bottling up his feelings. "Niall," Harry begins but is interrupted by Louis' annoying voice. "Lads! Do some shots with us!" Harry wants to punch him in the face.

"We're fine thanks," he finally says with a tight-lipped smile, ushering Niall out of the bar. Turning back a few moments later, he sees Liam and Zayn have disappeared, and Louis' spun around on his chair, facing Harry. "Good luck getting out." he mouths, before turning around and making conversation with the bartender. If Harry thinks what he thinks he's thinking, they're not getting out of here for a while.

Turning back, he realises Niall's no longer at his side.

"Let's play a game," Louis says from behind him, startling Harry and making him turn around once more. "I'll give you back Niall if you agree to do shots with us." Is this a fucking joke?

"Where the fuck is my friend, you dwarf?!" That wasn't what Harry expected to say, but he can't take back his words now so he just rolls with it. Louis takes a step forward, clenching his jaw. They're almost kissing and Harry's vision is going blurry with how close he is. "What the fuck did you just call me?" He asks in a whisper. So Louis doesn't like his height being made fun of. Noted once again.

"A dwarf, because you're small." Harry smirks proudly to himself, but it falters when he's being shoved into a table nearby, his hip colliding with the pointed end, sending waves of pain throughout his body.

"You know," he recovers from the pain, chuckling darkly before continuing. "You've packed quite the punch for a man as small as you are." Harry  _knows_  he's going to get proper beaten up later. Getting Louis worked up is making Harry half-hard. Shit, he needs help. He is not supposed to be half-hard right now. 

 _"Vous voulez baiser avec moi, Harry?"_   Harry has no idea what he's saying, and is stunned by the fluency of Louis' French, but shoves him back anyway. Worth a shot, right?  _"Je vais vous déchire partie."_  Louis hisses, and Harry can't help the next words that escape his mouth. "You sound really pretty when you speak French."

Oh  _fuck_. Oh shit.

"What?" Louis' face is unreadable, a pink tinge painting his face.

"O-oh, um." The air is extremely thick, people bumping into them as they dance by, the lights casting the most beautiful coloured shadows over Louis' body. And honestly, what is Harry even thinking right now. Louis momentarily takes a small step back, but it feels like a mile.

Fishing his phone from his pocket clumsily, he taps a few buttons. His eyes are still wearily holding their gaze at Harry, intent yet soft. Glancing down at the floor, he speaks quietly. "Z, Liam, return Niall. We'll be leaving now." with that, he hangs up and swiftly turns on his heals, disappearing into the dancing bodies.

 

It's safe to say, Niall and Harry made it home in one piece. Save for Niall's story on where exactly the two ugly grasshoppers kidnapped him to. (Which happened to be the mens bathroom, could they get any more stupid? That's only the most obvious place in the world.)

"This is so stupid, H. Louis can't just keep popping up out of no where and threatening us!" Niall exclaims while they cuddle in bed watching Desperate Housewives. Harry sighs deeply, leaning over Niall to the night stand and stealing his tea that he only took one sip of, raising it to his lips.

"I know, Ni. I'm so sick of Louis and his ugly grasshopper friends." Niall throws his head back and literally cackles, holding his stomach. "Watch the tea!" Harry scolds when Niall almost hits him in the face.

"Another long day eh, Ni? Let's sleep." Harry mumbles, finishing his tea before sliding further down into the bed and flicking the television off with the remote. "Yeah,  _mmph_ , sleep sounds good." From what Harry can tell, Niall's already 75% asleep. probably was the whole time.

"Night, Ni."

"Goodnight, Harry."  **  
**

 

"So you're french then?" Harry inquires, raising a brow to Louis. The time on the dialogue clock above it showed 8:37pm. They were at his house.  _Again_. Stanley resting peacefully by the fireplace. He honestly doesn't understand why Louis keeps dragging him to his house, it's like an obligated friendship. Maybe Louis is befriending Harry so he doesn't tell anyone about the drug incident about a month back.  _Keep your friends close and your enemies closer_. To be quite honest, Harry has no idea where the two stand, they've only hung out once and bickered more than he can count. It's strange, really. It's like there's two Louis', one in dark suits and quiffs with a sharp tongue and intense power over others, the other soft and small in oversized hoodies and Adidas sweatpants, voice calm. Harry gets rock hard either way. It's bad. "No, I'm not French. I can speak fluent French, though. You probably picked that up at the club when I was threatening you." Louis calmly corrects, running his small hands down Stanleys back before scratching behind his ear.

"Didn't seem like it at first, what with your accent and that." Harry laughs, earning him a glare from Louis' way. They were both on the floor in the midst of playing Scrabble. Harrys idea, of course. "When I got bored as a child, I-" there's a hesitant pause. Shaking his head faintly, Louis laughs. It's more of a sad laugh, really. "Say something and I'll translate it." He suddenly challenges, a half-smirk forming on his lips. Harry's a little disappointed he didn't get to hear Louis' story, but doesn't press the latter.

"Alright, let's see," propping an elbow on his thigh and rubbing an invisible beard, Harry thinks. "My name's Louis, and I'm really bad at Scrabble." that earns him another mock glare but Louis obliges anyway.  _"Mon nom est Louis et je veux vas te faire encule."_  he says smoothly, humming proudly to himself. "Not bad, not bad." Harry nods, although he has no idea what he just said. "What? You think you can do better?" Louis scoffs, his proud demeanor gone within an instant. "I most certainly can, watch." Coughing dramatically, Harry readies himself.  _"Oui."_

All is silent for a while before Louis bursts out laughing, holding his fists between his teeth.  _"What?!"_  Harry asks exasperatedly. "You didn't even pronounce it- oh _God!_  This is too good!" Louis throws his head back, clapping his hand on his thigh.

"Stop laughing!" Harry huffs, crossing his arms.

"You are  _so_  bad, this is hilarious." Louis snickers, finally calming down.

"Fuck you." Harry mumbles, a small smile making its way onto his lips.

 

  
"Louis, how old are you?"

"Old enough to get into good clubs." Louis calmly replies, scrolling through Facebook on his iPad. They relocated to Louis' room now, sitting on his king-sized bed. Harry should get home soon, it's nearing 9pm and he needs to cook dinner. Niall would probably burn the house down. All that boy can cook is noodles.

 _"Louis."_  Harry sends him a look.

 _"Harry."_  Louis mocks, his famous smirk appearing when he looks up.

"I'm being serious, we've known each other for a month-"

"A long month, at that."

Harry huffs and continues.

"...and I barely know anything about you." Louis is suddenly quiet, turning his iPad off and looking at Harry with an expression he can't read. "Well, what do you want to know?" That was an answer Harry wasn't expecting. He was expecting some witty response or something along the lines of  _"That's a shame, because I know everything about you"_.

"How old are you?" Is his first question. Louis smiles.

"Twenty-five."

Harry cuts to the chase, which ends up being a bad move."Where did you grow up as a child?"

Louis' lip twitches.

"That's enough questions for today, Harry." He smiles again, softly, this time, and clicks his iPad back to life, unlocking it and continuing his Facebook scroll.

Well then. Nice chat.

"Louis?"

"Mm?" Harry's not even sure if he's paying attention or not. He continues anyway.

"Why are you so closed off?"

Louis sighs again, turning off his iPad and placing it to his right.

"Alright, Harry. I'll tell you a little bit about myself," he begins.

 

 

Louis' been missing for three days now.

After he'd told Harry about his life and how he grew up in Doncaster with a loving, supporting family before moving to America, the next day he just dropped off the face of the earth. Harry doesn't have Zayn or Liam in his contacts, and Niall wouldn't know anything. He's texted and rang Louis more times than he can count, all of them going through to voicemail and not being answered.

"Harry," Niall drawls from his place on the couch. He's playing FIFA as per usual. "Don't sweat it. Really mate, I think Louis is fine. Your boyfriend will come back and jump into your arms, trust me."

At this point Harry's grown used to Nialls constant need to call Louis  _his boyfriend_  and, well, to be honest, he's not really complaining. But still.

"I know, Ni," he sighs, dropping his phone onto the coffee table before patting his legs. "Scoot over, I wanna play," he recieves a smirk, Niall plopping his legs over Harrys lap and handing him a controller. "I'm not going to let you win this time, just so you know." Harry glares playfully.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

 

 

He finally remembers to go shopping, strolling around the store with a basket in tow.

He's looking through the toilet paper rolls when he turns and bumps into someone, dropping the toiletries packaging.

"Sorry!" the man mumbles, reaching down to pick them up the same time as Harry, making them knock heads.

It isn't until Harry looks up when he vaguely recognizes who it is, he could spot those doe-eyes anywhere.

"Liam?" the man himself passes Harry the toilet paper, Harry nodding as a thanks and placing it in the basket. "What are you doing here?"

"Harry," he drawls out, an uncomfortable tone in his voice. "I was sort of hoping we wouldn't cross paths," he purses his lips. "but I'm keeping an eye on you until Louis is away."

Wait, wait, wait. Does this mean Liam knows where Louis is?

He must've seen the curiosity in Harry's eyes. "And before you ask, I can't tell you where he is. So please stop trying to contact him." Liams voice is scarily firm. "Right, right. Sorry. Can you at least tell me if he's okay?"

Liam thinks for a moment, before nodding. "He's fine, just doing work things." Harry nods, and there's an awkward silence, save for other people ambling around behind them. "I haven't told anyone, I promise I won't." he adds, just for safe measure.

He groans, "I know, Harry, it's just Zayn and I's job to be extra careful. We're already keeping an eye on two others; including Niall, who've walked in on our little façade." Harry wants to ask who else, but Liam's already squeezing his shoulder and making his way towards another aisle.

 _Another day, then._  Harry thinks.

 

 

"I'm back!" Harry calls while ambling into the house with four plastic bags hung on his arms, kicking the door behind him shut. Niall's in the same position as this morning. (Harry's not surprised.)

"Hey, H. I fed the horses," Niall mumbles through a handful of chips.

"Ah, thank you, Ni. such a blessing," Harry smiles, dropping the bags carefully on the bench after he enters the kitchen. "I also went out and got more petrol, and I signed up for tennis," Niall adds, voice calm.

"Wow, hey, thanks man, and good for you! Tennis is always fun," Harry nods, now sitting on the opposite couch with his legs folded and hands clasped loosely in his lap.

"I also got a girlfriend,"

Well, that was unexpected.

"Oh, what's her name?" Harry's voice wavers a bit but he coughs to cover it up. He's happy for Niall, really, but now that he's got a girlfriend Harry will probably not sleep a wink for a few days. Niall tends to become very... loud in bed when he has female company.

"Barbara, and we've been going out for a few months now," he starts.

A few...  _months?_  Could Niall not have filled Harry in at any time they were together? Seriously, Harry never keeps anything from Niall, (except for the fact that he thinks a certain feathery brown haired, blue-eyed male is quite alluring...) and he decides to just drop that bombshell right now?

Harry cuts him off. "Niall, what the fuck?!" the blonde-haired boy it momentarily stunned by Harry's sudden burst. "You kept this from me for two months?"

"...Three."

Harry glares at him, sending invisible daggers into his skull. He shuts up.

"We're best friends-" he starts, but is cut off.

"Yeah. Every best friend has a secret, Harry! Jesus. I knew you'd react like this, so bottled up and lonely, you are! You rely on me so much, Harry. I don't want to be your caregiver, okay? You need new friends." Niall spits back, his face peppered in red splotches from all of the anger, a small neck on his vein threatening to explode.

"You know what?" Harry says quietly, unsure if Niall can hear him. He continues anyway.

"Maybe I do."

 

 

Harry storms to his room like a child, opening the door before slamming it shut and belly-flopping onto his bed, salty hot tears threatening to spill out.

Him and Niall have fought before, it's nothing new, but this time Niall hit a soft bit of Harry, like stabbing a knife into a gaping wound. He's always relied on Niall, it's no lie, but Harry doesn't want any other friends. He's almost perfectly happy with his life so far.

_So bottled up and lonely, you are._

One fat tear rolls down his cheek onto the pillow.

_I don't want to be your caregiver, okay?_

He begins to sniffle grossly, rubbing a palm at his eye. Stop crying, Harry. You're better than this. It's just a girl.

_You need new friends._

This time, he's full out sobbing, balling his hands into fists with his arms over his head, drowning out the sounds around him.  
He falls asleep that night, with dry tears smudged and stained on his cheeks.

 

  

"I always thought you were a cat person to be honest," Harry laughs, Stanley's head propped comfortably between his lap.

He's sitting on the plush sofa at Louis' house. He came back a few hours ago, actually, and Harry was elated when Liam told him, though he tried to maintain his calm voice over the phone. He really wanted to escape the tension within him and Niall's household so he rung Louis up after and asked if he could come around and chill for a bit. Luckily, Louis had told him he wasn't busy or tired that day so he wouldn't mind.

"I thought so too me-self." Louis nods, smiling. "If little Stanley here hadn't of given his last 'dying' barks in the alleyway I was passing, I would've never've found him." he removes himself from the opposite couch he's sitting on and plunks himself next to Harry, thighs touching and all.

"He was so small, Harry," Louis ran a soft hand across the dogs head, merely missing Harry's own knuckles where they rest on his neck lightly. "didn't think he would make it, to be honest," his voice was so  _soft_  and  _fond_  and Harry was falling in love.

Wait.

Harry wasn't falling in love, no. He's just.. happy that Louis' opening up to him more.

And although it's true, he'll just go with that.

"...but now here we are." Louis concludes. Harry glanced towards him to see his eyes red, tears threatening to spill.  _"Hey,"_   he reaches a tentative hand towards Louis' cheek, brushing a stray tear away with his thumb.

Louis' eyes followed the movement wearily, Stanley no longer stretched across the couch, most likely got bored of whatever  _this_  is. This moment. Everything feels slowed down, like the world has stopped turning on its axis. Maybe Harry's over-exaggerating. Just a bit.

His hand is still cupping Louis' face, thumb rubbing faintly in circular motions. Louis' eyes staring into Harry's, looking like they're searching for something, anything and although Harry is unsure what it is, he just hopes Louis finds it.

The moment is broken when Louis smacks Harry's hand away, (rather harshly, if Harry says so himself.) his walls now up with extra protection.

"Anyway," Louis coughs awkwardly, standing up and brushing invisible dust from his thighs before walking into the kitchen. "Tea?"

 

  

Harry nods, a little stunned at Louis' sudden.. whatever that was. It looked like he wanted it as much as Harry, but there's something holding him back. Harry hopes to destroy what ever that something is. Maybe he has a chance at this.

The thing is, yes, at first he was taken aback at how utterly stunning Louis was, and got a semi whenever his presence was nearby, but now he barely gets hard, save for the soft accidental touches Louis gives him. Louis likes his tea with two sugars and no milk, and he loves Stanley to death. You could tell how appreciative he was just by having Stanley, the only other living thing that lives in this massive house of his. Louis is also a very good person. When Harry went to his house for the first time, he found this drawer in the corner of the hall loaded with Louis in various newspapers, most of the headlines reading **'LOUIS TOMLINSON HOSTS CHARITY BALL'**  or something along those lines.

He'd flicked through a few, and Louis had literally donated millions to hospitals and raised funds for cancer research.

He was falling more and more every day.

"Here," Louis suddenly whispers, pulling Harry from his thoughts and holding a pretty red mug painted with white flowers. He's looking expectantly at Harry, one arm extended a little, gesturing for him to take it.

"Thank you." Harry hums around the rim of the mug, blowing air on the hot liquid to cool it down.

"It's my favourite mug, don't drop it," Louis tries to state seriously, although Harry can't help but notice the very faint quirk of his lip, it disappearing sooner than it appeared.

Louis smiles and begins padding towards the stairs.

"Let's watch a movie, Haz. It's only two and I have things to do." Harry internally swoons at the nick-name, and follows a little too joyfully.

 

  

They're sitting against the headboard in the dark, with the curtains drawn. (Louis' idea, don't ask.) They're not the light curtains where the sun shines through like water, they're thick, heavy silk curtains. The only light is peeking from below, where they brush the soft carpet floor.

Louis seems very intent on the movie, as it seems. He suggested they watch  _Paranormal Activity_  which, in Harry's opinion, isn't even scary.

Louis' thighs brush Harry's. "Eyes on the movie." he orders, not taking his attention off the television plastered on the wall. What scares Harry a little is how he had  _known_ he was watching Louis, maybe he glanced at him when he wasn't looking. Harry's unsure.

He only gets fully hard at Louis' words though, no big deal.

It's way past two,  _3:37_   it says on the analogue clock above the door, and Harry wonders if Louis actually does have things to do. Oops.

He nods, turning his head and watching the creepy little girl stand in the doorway to the parents' bedroom for a while.

He feels a soft cold brush on his skin near his neck, giving him goosebumps and small shocks of electricity.

Louis' hand is playing with the baby hairs on the nape of Harry's neck, knuckles brushing his skin ever-so-lightly.

"L-Louis, what are you-" he starts, glancing towards Louis, whose eyes are still glued to the television.

"Shut up, Harry. Watch the movie." This time his hand crawls higher, carding through Harry's curls for a bit before resting at his scalp, scratching lightly.

That makes a small moan escape Harry's mouth.

Louis' hand stops scratching.

Everything goes quiet.

 

 

Harry refuses to make eye-contact, and makes to move, when there's a firm grip held onto his hair and he's yanked back, head falling into Louis' lap where he's now sitting cross-legged.

The sexual tension is... unbearable. And Harry has no idea what Louis' doing, but his grip has loosened and he's running his small hands through Harry's hair once again, leaning down to inhale the boys honey and cinnamon shampoo.

He can't tell if Louis' extremely hard, or happens to have a brick shoved in his pants, because he can definitely feel  _something_  poking into the back of his neck.

"God, you're so lovely, Harry." Louis mumbles under his breath. "Wanna mark you up everywhere, want to wreck you until you cry," he noses behind his ear, biting at the soft shell lightly. "Wanna come all over those pretty curls of yours," he says between hisses, rutting his hips up. And wow that is definitely  _not_  a brick.

Harry realises he hasn't said anything apart from small whimpers and moans. " _Oh my god, Louis_  please wreck me, I'll do anything, I swear." he pleads, reaching a hand down to palm himself.

Louis smacks his hand away harshly, Harry can't see well because of the darkness but he can definitely see how black and blown Louis' eyes are.

"No touching, sit up and watch the movie."

And with that, he gently pushes Harry from his lap (ironic because merely minutes ago he was tugging on his hair for dear life), forcing the boy to sit up.

They both watch the movie in silence, Harry having the worst hard-on of his life. He attempted to touch Louis, rub his thigh with his own or brush arms, but was arubptly stopped with another smack of his hand.

 _So Louis is the dominant type_ , Harry acknowledges.

Noted.

 

 

They don't talk about it for the remainder of the day, Harry going home around 5pm because Louis really  _did_  have things to do.

Harry slowly makes his way inside the small house, pushing the door open slightly as if he's on some top secret mission.

"There you are, H!" Niall suddenly chimes from his spot on the couch. (Harry swears he's always on the couch) "Listen, man. I've been thinking, and I'm sorry for letting some girl get between us, and I don't want her to be a problem. I just want you to be happy for me, is that okay?" 

Harry grins, opening the door fully before closing it again and making his way behind the couch, where Niall watches with soft eyes. "Yeah, Ni. Of course. I'm so sorry for over-reacting." He attempts to push all thoughts aside from what Niall said last night.

"And Harry, mate, I'm really sorry about what I said." Niall stands up, manoeuvring around the couch and opening his arms. "Hug?"

Harry can only smile wider, pushing himself into Niall with ease, his best friend ruffling up his hair and smacking a kiss to the top of his head.

"Love you, bro." Harry preens at Nialls words. He's so happy him and Niall are good again, he has no idea what's going on with him and Louis, and the day it still new, so they have plenty to do.

"Love you too."

 

 

After numerous amounts of attempting to beat Niall at FIFA (and failing), they both decided to head to bed, Niall murmuring a soft goodnight before tip-toeing into his room quietly, leaving Harry to turn off the television, put away the remote controls and clean up the food crumbs scattered around the coffee table.

 _Since when did Harry's life get so problematic?_ He finds himself questioning, as he scoops some crisp crumbs from the table into his hand. Today wasn't necessarily problematic like yesterday when Niall explained how he's had a girlfriend for three months without telling Harry and that Louis admitted he wanted to come in Harrys curls. 

But today was nice, not much to put into detail aside from dog patting with Louis and fighting with Niall, but he went to a coffee shop with Louis on the way home and explained the art of Oscar Wilde to him, the poor boy looking confused as ever. ("Dorian Gray is the impossibly beautiful young man who becomes the subject of a portrait by the fashionable society painter, Basil Hallward. When the artist, who has become infatuated with his model, introduces the "young Adonis" to Lord Henry Wotton, he is rapidly seduced by the peer's witty and corrupting devotion to hedonism. You see, Louis? It's beautiful." "Wait the kinky guy with the chains and whips and stuff?" "No, Louis." he sighed exasperatedly, "That's Christian Grey.")

Finishing off his cleaning duty, Harry notices the time and almost squawks, because it was nearing eleven. Way past his bedtime.

He was about to head to bed when there was a solid knock at the door. Eyeing it suspiciously for a few seconds before walking over and opening it, he's met with grey eyes and chiselled cheekbones.

"Hello," the man smiled, peering around the room. "May I come in?" That was a little quick to ask, as Harry had merely opened the door no less than five seconds ago.

This man was more than beautiful, perfect teeth and a strong jawline, strong hands Harry could only fantasize about.

It was late, though. And Harry wasn't stupid.

"Sorry, can I help you? It's almost eleven." he furrowed his brows, watching the man with weary eyes. The man looked somewhat familiar, though the curly headed boy couldn't put his finger on it.

"Axel," he mused, reaching out a hand to shake Harry's own. Harry obliged calmly.

"Okaay," he drawled, with clear uncertainty in his voice while he began to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. "What can I do for you, Axel?" He remembers now, the smirk on Axel's face when he left the abandoned building holding two black briefcases loaded with cocaine.

"Harry," his voice grew low, like a warning. It was a little intimidating. "Don't make this confrontation longer than it needs to be."

What confrontation? What is this Axel guy on about?

"Um," Harry muttered, raising his eyebrows in confusion. He has no idea what's going on.

Moving to close the door, Axel stopped it with his foot, pushing it open much more than necessary.

Harry stepped back, his body hitting the back frame of the couch softly after a few paces, the green forest built in his eyes now became a wildfire, animals scattering to safety while their home burnt down to the ground, with no one to save them.

He was pulled from his thoughts when a shiny black pistol pushed itself into his chest.

"Make a sound and you'll be a dead man, Harry Styles. Come with me."

 

 

He's shoved into the back of a van, noticing around two other men were waiting outside of his and Niall's house.

They'd gone inside to check if Niall was still awake or aware of what was happening, but as usual: he was out like a light.

Coming back, they signalled for the van to get going. No sooner did it spring to life, the engine puttering loudly.

Not loudly enough to wake Niall, it seems.

One of the men sat in the back of the van with him, along with Axel, and began tying his wrists tightly with plastic wire, locking the small nub fixated on it into place so he couldn't escape.

"Now's the fun part," one of the men laughed, as the van swam along the road silently.

Reaching for what appeared to be duct tape, the man measured how long it would be with one eye open before ripping it harshly with his teeth.

Carefully angling the tape, he plastered it across Harrys face, smoothing it with his hand before nodding towards Axel for approval.

"You have lovely lips, little dove." Axel quirked his lips slightly, running his thumb across the opening of Harrys lips that were caught between the sticky tape.

"The things I could get you to do," he added, and Harry couldn't say much because he was honestly tired. One being because it was nearing 12am, and the other being because  _could his life get much worse than this?_

 

 

It appeared so, because once they'd arrived Harry was once again shoved out of the van, his feet missing the ground as he flopped sideways on the solid terrain and struggled to get up. After a two hour drive of sitting with his knees to his chest and Axel babbling on about how gorgeous Harry was and how he couldn't wait to get to taste him one day, the words sending cold shivers down Harry's spine, it was truly a blessing when he got out of that cramped smelly old van and out into the night air.

That is, until he saw the open concrete ground stretching for miles,

and the small plane parked nearby.

"Guess where we're going?" Axel whispered into his ear, his hot breath hitting the shell of his ear uncomfortably, causing Harry to squirm.

"Mmph." Harry huffed, which made Axel turn to face him before ripping the silver tape from his mouth harshly, which hurt like  _shit_ , making Harry teary-eyed.

"Don't cry, little dove," Axel hushed, pushing his index finger into the curve of Harry's lips gently. "We're only going to Brazil." he grinned, removing his finger from Harrys lips, but not without brushing them softly. Thumb playing with the belt loop of Harry's jeans, he added: "That's when we can have some  _real_  fun."

 

 

The plane ride was no different, Axel having his hand dangerously high on Harry's thigh, rubbing uncomfortable circle motions into his skin.

"You're mine, now." He mumbled an hour into the ride, hand moving higher where his thumb was barely touching Harry's groin.

"I'm no ones." Harry spat, sending a cold glare Axel's way before shoving his hand off of him and caving in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest while wrapping two arms around himself. The position was very uncomfortable due to the tight seatbelt latched around his chest and digging into his throat, and the fact that his hands were still tightly tied, but it was better than having a creep groping him.

Axel wasn't having it though, and pulled his feet from the seats, cupping Harry's jaw tightly, forcing Harry to face him.

"Don't put your feet on the seat, this is Italian leather, and I highly doubt you'd have enough money to pay back even a quarter of what it's worth." He snapped, before releasing his grip, groaning and pulling himself forward to ask "how much longer?" It earned a sigh from the pilot as he mumbled an answer, it being seven more hours.

Eight whole fucking  _hours_  with this creep that threatened and kidnapped him, and shoved him on a plane to fucking  _Brazil!_  He has no phone, hasn't eaten since seven that night, and god don't even get him started on how worried he is for Niall.

Harry can't help but stare out the window and silently cry to himself, because he has no idea whether he's going to make it back unscathed or not.

At least Brazil was only an hour ahead of New York, so he wouldn't get jet-lagged.

 

 

"We're here!" Axel suddenly coos a little too brightly, startling Harry from his sleep. "You're so adorable when you sleep, you know?" It was almost seven in the morning on a Tuesday, and Axel was sounding way too buzzed. And ah fuck, Harry's supposed to be working today.

"Now, get the fuck out of my plane. We have a hotel room to book."

_Gladly._

They make their way to the airport, a few people ambling around inside, a few ramp agents guiding the much larger planes nearby.

"So, remind me again why you decided to threaten me, then kidnap me, and now we're at a public airport where I could just as well escape?" Harry chimes, watching the grin from Axel's face falter.

"But you won't-" Axel begins, before Harry cuts him off.

"How do you know that? I could run right now," He laughs. The grey-eyed man clenches his jaw tightly before setting a firm plastic smile onto his face.

"You don't know where you'll go," he inches closer, his face a breath away from Harry's own.

"And I don't think Louis would like to hear how his boy passed away in Brazil under the hands of his own drug dealer. Wouldn't that be sad, Harry?" Axel grins, patting Harry's head like a dog before turning around and barking orders for his men to keep an eye on Harry.

_His boy._

_Passed away._

Harry's heart turns into a raisin after Axel had threatened to potentially kill him, though kept his calm anyway as he said; "you're too immature to inflict death upon others." (Which had earned him an uncomfortable slap on the arse.)

 

 

Once they had settled in a hotel, three men keeping in close proximity of Harry and eyeing anyone that stared at him for a second too long, Harry flopped onto the bed. In all honesty, he was tired of all this and wanted to sleep. Sleep sounds nice, yes.  _Sleeeep._

Just as he was drifting off, that cursed voice bounded throughout the room. "I don't think so, pretty boy," Harry scoffed at Axel's words. "You're sleeping on the couch."

"Remind me again, exactly, why you brought me here?" Harry mumbles into the plush hotel pillow with his arms crossed over his head. He still had the stupid fucking wire bound around his wrists, and can see dark red marks that have already made their place known.

"So Louis can pay up than ten thousand grand he owes me," he states calmly. "You're not on a vacation. You are to stay in this hotel room at all times until I get my money. Now, if you don't get off in five seconds, you'll be sleeping on the floor."

"You're so annoying," Harry drawls out, removing himself from the soft bed. "And a terrible kidnapper, by the way."

Harry doesn't sleep easy that night, tossing and turning on the couch. And although it's reasonably comfortable, he can't get the questions being thrown about in his head.

_Has Niall or Louis noticed yet?_

_Where is Louis? What if he's working and has no clue?_

_When will he get home?_

_Why does Louis owe Axel so much?_

Which leads to the main question:

_What has Louis done?_

Harry sighs, and turns to face the couch, drawing invisible lines on its beautiful white patterns.

He just wants to go home.

 

  **Two days later **  
****

Panicking would be an understatement. Harry's been gone for a few days now, and hasn't contacted Louis once. Niall's worse, fearing for his safety and staring aimlessly at Harry's phone sitting on the kitchen counter, untouched.

"Niall, mate-" Louis soothes, rubbing a hand on his lower back, kneading his small palms into his shoulders. 

"Don't  _mate_  me! I have no idea where Harry is, I woke up and he was gone.  _Fuck!_  I'm so stupid. He'll be back yeah? He will.." Niall's voice cracks throughout his blabbering, soft tears making their way down his pink tainted cheeks. He's a mess.

They all decided to stay out at Harry & Niall's place, Louis, Liam and Zayn accompanying him and waiting for his return. The day has only just begun though, it being eleven in the morning.

They have a long day ahead of them.

Louis walks around the small house and tries to call up as many people as he can, his bodyguards, friends of friends, friends of  _dealers_ _._ It isn't until he calls one particular person when things flip upside down and all the life drains from his body.

"Hi, Axel. Listen-"

"Harry's missing? Yeah, I know." 

Louis feels himself go pale. "How did you kn-"

"In fact Louis," he cuts in. His voice sounds way too smug and Louis' suspicions slowly boil, brewing into this large pot ready to explode. 

There's a pregnant pause and the sound of muffled voices in the background before Axel finally speaks.

"He's here with me, don't worry though, he's perfectly safe. Would you like to hear him?" 

Fuck. Would he  _ever??_

"Yes, put him on the phone. Then tell me why you have him." he tries to make his voice not waver, though it may have reached an octave higher. His body is a traitor.

 

 

Louis is in tears by the end of the phone call, though he doesn't dare shred a single sound that could give his emotions away to Axel. He's not weak, no. He just misses Harry so much. Too much. He'll be back.

Sure, they've only known each other two months, but he's bonded so well with the curly-headed boy. His hair is the softest Louis' ever felt, and his eyes are a beautiful shade of emerald green with the faintest colour blue dotting the inside like little freckles. He likes his tea with two sugars, no milk. Loves The 1975. (Louis used to mock him, calling him a hipster, which only resulted in Harry buying a shirt saying  _'Hipsta Please'_.) His favourite order from Starbucks is a vanilla latte with a shot of caramel cream, and his voice is so melodic and soothing, swimming through the fine air like an angel fish. Louis' not very good with words. _  
_

"What did Axel say?" Zayn muses from the couch while Liam tries his absolute best to calm Niall down.

"He's got Harry." The room goes completely silent, Niall stopping himself from sniffling to look up at Louis with wide eyes.

Despite the extreme tension in the room, Louis continues.

"He wants ten grand because I only gave him three quarters of the coke I was supposed to give him but for the full price anyway, I didn't think he'd notice!" he adds the last sentence hurriedly, not looking any of them in the eye.

"Louis, what the  _fuck!_ You were supposed to give him all of the coke for the right price! Of course he's going to notice! Twenty bags with three point seven grams each, Louis, no more no less. That was the deal!" Zayn stands from his spot on the couch and hesitantly walks towards him. There's a long pause. "Look at me, Louis."

He does. Zayn's almost red in the face, a long vein popping from his neck.

"You've done this before, Louis. I told you not to mess with them too many times." his voice was softer now, concern washing over his face, neck vein disappearing. Niall and Liam are still watching from the couch with quiet eyes, inquisitive and wondering. Questioning. It makes Louis want to puke. "What else did he say?"

"He wants ten grand within two days or he's going to kill Harry. You know him, Zayn. He always mean what he says." 

Niall starts sobbing again, and Zayn nudges Louis towards the couch to comfort him, but is stopped when Niall quickly stands and there's a strong fist flying towards his face, knocking him square in the jaw as small amounts of blood ooze from his lips. 

"You.. y-you fucked this up." Niall stutters, clenching his fist. with his knuckles a bright shade of white. "You put my best friends  _life_ in danger! My brother! All over some stupid fucking cocaine, fuck! You're so fucking selfish, I can't believe you."

"Niall, I'm so s-"

"No, shut the fuck up." he snaps. His usual bright blue eyes are dark with anger. "When Harry gets back-" he closes his eyes tightly, hot tears spilling from his eyes before re-opening them. " _If_ he gets back, you're not to ever go near him again. I can't believe I'm saying this Louis, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for bringing Harry to that abandoned warehouse all those months ago, I'm sorry for excusing him that one time at a party when he panicked because you were there-" _  
_

"Niall, please. You don't mean that." Louis pleads, tears threatening to spill. The ones on his cheeks from half an hour ago have gone sticky. So much crying and sadness lately, maybe Harry's happy he got away from Louis.

Niall sends him a death glare and continues.

"But the one thing I'm the most sorry about," he says with firm eyes. "Is letting him fall for you."

 

 

"Fuck, fuck.. fuck!" Louis groans as he bustles around Niall & Harrys home, writing down phone numbers and notes of people he needs to get in contact with. (Niall went grocery shopping because they had little to no food, and also because he wanted to clear his head, though Louis thinks he just wants to get as far away from him as possible.) (He's not surprised.)

Picking up his phone, he dials the same number twice, his hands being so shaky the first time, causing him to start over again. The person on the other line finally picks up and he lets out a sigh of relief. "Hey, yeah, Paul? I'll send those extra five bags your way," there's a pause. "Three hundred dollars? No no, I need a bit more! Just a bit." Another pause. "Yes, five hundred will do, thank you. Transfer it as soon as you can," and adds just for safe measure: "have a nice night."

"Louis, it's only been two hours since the phone call, we still have a little more time. Don't wear yourself out." Zayn chides from the barstool in the kitchen. He's far too calm for this, meanwhile Louis has tried getting into contact with ten people regarding job opportunities and making appointments for trades and new stock to come in.

"Mm," Liam hums, nodding his head in agreement. "I think it's best we stay calm about this whole situation and work through it slowly. Louis, I called Sasha a few minutes ago and she said you're still up for the job if you want it." Louis momentarily stops flicking through the pages of a phone book and looks up wearily.

"What job?" Liam scratches his head in clear hesitance, and Louis can tell from a mile away it's not good. "Liam..." he drawls out, straight glaring at the man. "What. Job." Liam finally makes eye contact, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Pursing his lips, he finally breathes out a: "Sashawantsyoutobecomeastripperforaclubdowntowntomorrownight."

"Come again?" Louis hisses, "I don't want to play any games, Liam. Say it. Slowly." The man in question nods and huffs before repeating himself: "Sasha wants you to become a stripper for a club down town tomorrow night--but! Before you ask, she promised around five grand will be made if you do it up to her standards."

"Fuck." Louis huffs. Five grand? That's a lot.

"Yeah." They all go into a pregnant silence while Louis thinks about the job.

"Okay. For Harry."

Zayn and Liam nod sheepishly, replying simultaneously; "For Harry."

 

 

He meets up with Sasha the next day. She's got beautiful dark chocolate skin and dreadlocks for miles, which are tied up once he meets her at a cafe. She's pretty alright, and one of Louis' best customers. Just don't get on her bad side or she'll send you running like a scared mouse.

"Alright, so give me the run-down on this  _job_." Louis sighs, situating himself in the chair opposite her.

"Louis, my dear boy! How've you been?" She chimes, smirking. Somehow Sasha always gets what she wants. Louis wishes he knew.

"Sasha." He gives her a pointed look. Louis' in no mood for any more games right now.

"Fine, fine! Alright, so tomorrow the theme is glitter," Fucking hell.  _Glitter_  of all things. "And you, Louis, will be the main act. I'm sure you're at least a little flexible?"

"I haven't worked at a strip club for years, but I think I'll be alright. Just send me the instructions and I'll be on my way," he makes to get up out of his chair when a body pushes him back down, holding onto his arm. Looking up, he notices another man has been standing next to him the whole time.

"I'm not done yet, Louis." Sasha comments mildly, flicking her hand to signal the bodyguard to release his grip on Louis' bicep. Louis rubs his arm and nods for her to continue. Damn, does that man has a strong grip. "You're going to be the main act, yes, but that means you're going to need practise. I'm sending a man to your house to help you learn so you can earn your pay, deal?" Louis nods, although he hasn't been to his house in a week, getting a maid to clean it and take care of Stanley while he's been gone.

"Uh, sure?" he answers with hesitance.

"Great. Now do you have a 'type'?"

_Could this job get any worse?_

 

 

The man comes to Louis' house a few hours subsequent to his and Sasha's 'talk'. There's a knock at the door and when Louis opens it, he's met with a curly head of hair and brown eyes. Fuck. This was a bad idea.

"Hello," the man grins with far too many teeth, extending a hand for Louis to shake. He takes it calmly, waiting for the man to continue. He looks around the same age as Louis, so maybe Sasha didn't do too bad.

(Louis still regrets telling her he has a thing for curls.)

It's been a full two minutes of silence, the man staring at Louis and no doubt checking him out, before Louis coughs.

"Huh? Oh! Sorry. You're just--you're very beautiful," The man chokes out.  _Christ_. Louis almost throws up in his mouth. "My name's Thomas, I'm your instructor for today. Mind if I come in?" Louis nods, gesturing for him to enter, Stanley coming bounding down the stairs and sniffing Thomas' groin. Awkward.

"Don't mind him," Louis almost laughs at Thomas' reaction to Stanley getting a bit too close. "He's always like that, was like that with Harry--" he finds himself smiling fondly at Stanley, completely unaware of the last sentence he just spoke.

"Harry? Who's he?"

"Hm?" Louis is dragged from his daydream of Harry, his beautiful boy ( _he's not yours, idiot_  Louis thinks) playing Scrabble and memorizing his laugh.

"How do you know Harry?"

"You mentioned a Harry," Thomas smirks slyly. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"Not necessarily, no. Just a good friend, I guess." Louis shrugs. He has no idea where he and Harry stand.

"Soo," Thomas drawls out, pacing closer towards Louis until he's face to face, clearly eyeing him up and down like he's a lion and Louis' a deer. No. Louis is  _clearly_  the man of the house.  _He_  is the lion. "He wouldn't mind if we played around a bit?" he reaches a hand around to cup Louis' firm arse.

Fuck, Louis is too turned on by this and they need to stop immediately. A.S.A.P. Right now... but what about the other curly-headed boy in Brazil?

"I don't think he would mind at all," he ends up replying and that's about the only words Thomas needs to hear before he's taking Louis' hand and leading him upstairs towards his bedroom, Louis guiding him before slamming the door shut once they get inside and Thomas latching a mouth onto his neck hungrily.

 

 

Louis hates himself.

He slept with his stripping instructor, and now he hates himself.

One being because he didn't learn anything at all, and two being because  _Harry_. He shouldn't be sleeping with other men while he and Harry are... well he doesn't exactly know what he and Harry  _are_ , but... maybe they're just friends? Point is, Louis needs to ace this job tomorrow night. Then he's going to get enough money for Axel, and Axel's going to bring Harry home, and Niall's going to hate him and he's never going to see Harry again.

He still hates himself, though. And it's only five in the afternoon on a Thursday.

He does relatively well the next night at the club, scrapping up as much as one grand from on-lookers and Sasha paying him the five grand she promised. "You did well tonight, Louis." She'd nod her head in approval before being escorted out by two bustly looking men.

"So, how much do we have so far?" Is the first thing Zayn asks when Louis opens the door to Niall and Harrys home, toeing off his shoes. "I'm great thanks, Zayn! My day was good!' Louis mocks with dry sarcasm, hanging his coat on the hanger nearby. Niall's here and he fixes Louis with a stern look. He is definitely the lion of the house. "Sorry," Louis mumbles. He's honestly been horrible coping with this whole situation and would much love to have Harry home and in his arms. "I got around six grand, didn't tell Sasha about the extra one grand I earned from those horny old farts that shoved money into my pants. Oh, and I also got fifty for screwing my stripping instructor. How much have you guys earned so far?" He ignores Niall's look of disgust, standing beside the couch where Liam and Zayn have calculators in their hands and the mountains of paper taking up half of the space on the coffee table, black reading glasses perched daintily on Zayns nose.

"Well, Liam did a few trades, which earned us--two hundred was it, love?" Liam whispers into his ear approvingly and Zayn nods. "Two hundred, and I did a few jobs with Sashas sister, like cleaning Mrs. Lahey's yard, which got us three hundred. Aaand, I think that's it." Louis totals the amount in his head. "So, six thousand five hundred and fifty then? That's in just over a day, maybe we can get another four thousand?" he tries. So far, they're not doing as well as Louis had hoped.

"Honestly mate, I'm not sure at this point. It's almost August, which means there's not much good stock coming in. When was the last time we rolled a spliff?" Liam replies from the couch, Niall still staring at Louis like the lion he is. He hasn't spoken to him since... yesterday? It's been so long. Louis is sure he hates him.

"That doesn't necessarily help, Liam--" he starts before muttering darkly: "on second thought, do you wanna to go out back and pass one around?" "That's my Lou," Liam counters, getting up off the couch. "Niall? Zayn?" Zayn's easy to follow through, and eventually Niall tags along hesitantly. They all get drunk and cry that night.

 

 

Being cooped up in a hotel like a chicken sure sheds some light on your imagination. Harry's killed Axel at least five times in his mind, persuaded the guards to order room service and even experimented new hairstyles in the shower. (Which they only let him use once. Bastards. If Harry'd known, he would've slipped a wank or two in there.)

This whole thing is basically just a joke to him, and he loves to rouse Axel up and take the piss out of him. The devil himself went out to run some errands and left three ugly bodyguards to watch Harry. Everything is ugly. He's not normally like this though, that's the thing. It's more of a Louis thing to do. (He's not surprised, he's witnessed enough of Louis' antics and pranks he sometimes pulls on Niall.)

Louis. Niall.

He misses his Louis and Niall, even though he has no idea what Louis' done.

_LouisLouisLouis._

"Looouuuiiiisss!" Harry yodels from his place on the floor by the bed, next to this large window that lets the sun shine through at the right angles, rainbows occasionally making an appearance on the white carpeted floor. His hands are still tied. (They change the wire every day, it's stupid. And Harry's pretty sure the marks are there permanently by now.)

"God, would you shut the fuck up!" One of the guards spits, (Brian, Axel calls him) hitting Harry in the back of the head with his ugly meaty hand. He's propped up on the bed next to Harrys spot on the floor reading this porno magazine. (Gay porn is better, in Harrys professional opinion.) "I don't know who this Louis person is, but they probably don't care about you by now." he snarls once again, rummaging around the hotel room for a water bottle. Harry spots one hiding under the bed but doesn't say anything.

"I think you need a little bit of fresh air Sir Brian," Harry comments mildly, "perhaps you should go out on that little resort thing down there!" He attempts to point at the beach below but fails due to _these stupid fucking wires wrapped around his wrists_. "Perhaps." he nods, gathering a towel from the wardrobe and a pair of swim trunks. Brown and blue swim trunks, seriously? Does this man not know of colour codes or colour co-ordination? "Jamie, watch the boy while I'm out. You too, Vince." With that, he stomps out of the room with his ugly swim trunks and towel in tow. Harry somehow needs to kill two birds with one stone, because those scissors in Brians suitcase next to the bed are begging to be used.

He needs to get out of here.

 

 

They have less than a day.

Louis needs to call Axel and figure something out, because after the four of them got drunk at a cheap pub in town, they managed to waste five hours of the time they could've spent getting money for Axel. For Harry.

Axel picks up after the fourth ring. "Louuis," he drawls out. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Have my money already?" Louis grits his teeth, padding into Harrys room and closing the door to make sure no one overhears their conversation. One more day. That's all they need.

I need one more day."

"No can do, Louis. You know the deal." You can hear him smirk on the other line.

"I'll do anything. Literally."

There's a pause.

"Anything?"

"Okay so here's the deal," Louis begins, exiting Harrys room. Three heads look up from their place near the coffee table and Louis is forced to meet Nialls eyes. "Axel's giving us another day--but under one condition," Niall raises both eyebrows. Louis holds his breath. "I have to have sex with Zayn, and all of you have to watch."

"Including Harry?" The blonde inquires, brows furrowed.

"Including Harry." Louis confirms. The words feel like venom.

"No," Liam shakes his head, with red-rimmed eyes. "I don't want to watch my fiancé fuck another man."

"Wait,  _fiancé_?" Niall and Louis reply simultaneously. "When the bloody hell did you two get engaged?!" Louis squawks because  _what the fuck!_  "Jesus Christ, you didn't tell them, Liam?" Zayn mock glares, whacking Liam on the chest lightly. "We'll tell you later." He mumbles. "Anyway," Liam stares cold between Louis and Zayn, I'm not letting you fuck each other with me in the room!" He gestures wildly with his hands, clutching onto Zayn like his life depended on it. "He's a sick man, Louis. A sick,  _sick_  man."

"Yes, Liam. I'm well aware." Louis scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "We'll use protection anyway, and it's another day. We need it. C'mon bro. We won't have to speak of it ever again." Louis tries.

"Not a peep?" Liam huffs.

"Not a peep." he promises.

 

 

They all book a plane to Brazil and are now sitting in the airport, each of them growing restless because their plane doesn't depart for another two hours. "Why the fuck did we have to go? Can't they come here?" Niall groans for the seventh time to no one in particular, kicking at the floor. "Now, now Niall. No need to get restless." Louis snickers.That earns him a glare and smack across the back of the head. So, he and Niall still aren't on good terms it seems.

It's going to be a long flight.

After almost eight whole hours of sitting next to an old man who farted every ten minutes, (Louis' seat got mixed up because the world is conspiring against him) they finally land in Brazil. "About damn time," Niall grumbles, "couldn't sleep for the majority of the flight. Now where the bloody hell are we going? I need a pint." They didn't bother getting any baggage because they were most likely going to return with nothing but Harry anyway.

Exiting the plane and aiport, they catch an Uber and Louis gives directions to the driver. "I dunno mate-" Louis starts.

"Don't 'mate' me, Louis. I'm not your  _mate_." Niall spits, gritting his teeth. "As I was saying, I don't know. All I know is that it's where Harry is being kept in this fancy expensive hotel owned by Axels father.

Once they get there, (it's fucking huge, by the way. Louis is impressed.) Louis pays the driver and the three musketeers hustle out of the car where a valet is waiting, walking towards Louis. "Are you here for Axel Ibáñez?" the man asks, hands clasped tight behind his back. "Yes, my name's Louis Tomlinson if that helps." he tries not to let his voice come out as too shaky. 

The mans face somewhat brightens. "Ah, Lewis Tomlinson. Yes, he's expecting you. Come right this way," Louis doesn't bother correcting the mispronunciation of his name, "My name's Gary, by the way. But that information is irrelevant." Gary nods, as they enter the hotel and walk in a line towards the elevator. 

The ride is quiet, but most of all, Louis wants to see his boy.  _(Not yours, remember?)_ "He's in the penthouse." Gary hums lamely in the midst of the awkward elevator situation. "Right." Louis nods, and that was that.

The elevator finally  _(finally!!!!!)_ dings, and Gary exits, not bothering to look back as he begins walking down the short hallway, there being only two doors on each side of the wall. "We have a knack for penthouses. He's in there. Enter when you're ready." He points to the door at the far end on the right. A curt nod and a shake of the hand is what Gary leaves them with before promptly turning around and leaving.

"Fuck." Louis breathes.

"You tend to say  _fuck_ a lot, you know?" Liam comments.

"Not helping, Li."

"Sorry."

Eventually Louis just says  _fuck it_ and knocks on the door.

What he's met with devastates him.

 

 

Harry's got plastic wire bound around his wrists and they're stained red and pink. Other than that, he looks so so beautiful. And he hasn't even acknowledged Louis' presence yet.

"Come in, Louis." Axel grins maniacally, (Louis wants to shove forks in his eyes) pushing the door open further. "Harold, your boy is here!" he calls, and it takes only a few seconds for Harrys eyes to meet Louis' own. He looks sad. And angry. And like he wants to kill Louis. 

It feels wrong.

"Niall." he manages to choke, tears welling in his eyes as Niall brushes past Louis and reaches down to where Harry is sitting before grabbing his hands and pulling him up until he stands. "I missed you so much, H. My brother. My best friend. I'm so sorry Louis put you through this."

Louis is crying, thin streams of tears rolling down his cheek slowly like how rain patters against a window after a heavy thunderstorm.

He's crying because Harry probably hates him, and he found out what he did and he's going to have sex with Zayn and his beautifu- ( _NOT YOURS, LOUIS.)_  his friend is going to watch and everything is going to come crumbling until there's nothing left because Harry's the only person Louis has really connected with before Zayn found him on the street all those years ago, begging for a safe home and spare change for a meal because his mother kicked him out. He still remembers that day clearly.

_("I'm gonna to tell her, Lots. 'M gonna." He grins to his sister, Charlotte. He's seventeen years old and ready to come out. She grins back twice as much. "You can do it, Lou. She knows you. She's a good mum. Supportive and all that.")_

"Lou?" Zayn waves a hand in front of his face. "What the fuck's up with him. He looks like a gargoyle." 

_(They laugh together for a little while before Louis nods mostly to himself, making his way into the kitchen where his mum is making dinner._

_"Mum." he smiles once he gets her attention. She turns around with a gentle smile, wiping her hands on a tea towel before turning the stove off. "Yes, love. Dinner is ready. I know it took so long and I'm sorry. Be a dear and go tell your sisters?" she ushers him gently, but Louis doesn't move._

_"That's actually not what I was going to talk to you about." Louis laughs almost hesitantly. His mum can see, though. Can see right through him. "Love, what's wrong?")_

"Looouiiis. Are you awaaake?" Liam pokes him in the cheek lightly. 

_("What would you do if-ah. Um, well what if I-"_

_"Boo-bear, dear, spit it out. I really need to tell your sisters dinner is ready before it gets cold. Lasagne. Your favourite." She laughs, stroking Louis' cheek._

_"Mum-, I don't know where to begin."_

_"Maybe another day then? When you're ready." She tries, pulling him into a loose hug before brushing past him. "I need to tell the girls." Louis shakes his head behind her even though she can't see, and grabs her wrist softly, causing her to turn around._

_"Mum, 'M gay.")_

"Harry, what the fuck is up with your boy?" Axel murmurs.

"He's not my boy. And I don't know." Harry replies nonchalantly 

_(There's a long, pregnant pause where his mother is just staring at him emotionless. Louis can see the motion of her tongue slide over her teeth between closed lips, and the way her knuckles clench and un-clench into fists._

_"I need to tell the girls dinner is ready." Is all she says. But she doesn't move from her place in the kitchen where she's standing. Staring._

_"And when I get back, I want you to be out of this house. I don't care where you go or who you choose to stay with."_

_"Mum, what do you-" Louis blinks heavily, thick salty tears rolling down his cheeks._

_"Don't speak to me or the girls again. I don't want anything to do with a... queer such as yourself." The words are spat onto his skin, latching onto him and crawling all over him like spiders. They burn and sting and dissolve into his blood cells._

_"Mum, please don't do th-"_

_"I'm not your mother!" She snaps, "not anymore, Louis! I don't want you anywhere near my daughters." He hears her mumble to herself a quiet: "I thought I raised you better than this."_

_"Mum! They're my sisters!" he pleads, falling to his knees and wrapping both arms around his mothers' waist with his cheek pressed against her stomach. "Don't let me go, please! Homosexuality is not a disease, I swear! I won't do anyth-" but before he can finish, his mother is wriggling out of his grasp and pushing him away, causing him to flop onto his back in a weak position. The tiles are cold against his bare feet and hands. Everything is cold. The air. He can't breathe._

_And the last thing he could see that day was the bottom of her shoe colliding with his nose.)_

"Louis!" Niall yells, and that pulls him from his thoughts. 

"Mmph?" he hums, as if nothing ever happened. Everyone in the room is giving him strange stares. "You were staring at the wall for like ten minutes," Zayn coughs, "I don't know what went on in that head of yours Louis, but we need to do this now." 

"Ah yes, right now. And what a pleasant sight that'll be." Grinning mischievously, Axel ushers them into the bedroom, turning to the three unknown bodies standing around. Vince, Brian, Jamie, out. You don't need to see this." they nod curtly, ambling out the door reluctantly until there's only Liam, Zayn, Niall, Axel and Harry standing around in the bedroom. 

"Strip. I don't have all day." Axel waves them off with his wrist, tossing a bottle of lube and two condoms onto the bed. Thankfully he closed the curtains, save for the little strips of light beaming through casting miniature streaks of rainbow across the posh carpet. "I don't give a fuck who tops or whatever, just make it sensual and slow, so Harry and Liam can see every little detail."

"You're a disgusting human being." Liam mutters, clenching his jaw with his eyes locked on Zayns hands fumbling nervously with the condom.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere." Axel laughs.

 

 

After an hour of Harry watching intently and Liam shuffling uncomfortably in his seat, his lip quivering every few minutes as he and Zayn have sex, he manages to finish himself off. Neither of the two come, and neither of the two dare make a moan throughout the entire thing.

It was hell.

But Louis has a plan.

After pulling out and discarding the condom, Louis enters the bathroom to make that he's cleaning himself off. 

What Axel isn't aware of, of course; is the nine millimetre pistol Louis' been carrying in his suit pants. How he managed to smuggle it into Brazil from New York is a secret.

Exiting the bathroom with scissors he found in the bottom drawer behind his back, (for someone 'who kidnaps' another person, you don't leave potential weapons lying around, Axel the stupid bastard probably doesn't know what one plus one equals.) he nods towards Harry, who looks at him with concerned eyes. "Harry, come here."and like the good boy he is,  _(_ _Louis' good boy. He'll have to reward him later.) (NOT YOUR BOY, LOUIS.)_ he obliges and follows reluctantly, glancing back to a weeping Liam peppering Zayns face with kisses and an uncomfortable Niall watching like a hawk. 

Axel watches from the door frame with furrowed brows. "What are you doing, Louis?"

He ignores him. "Arms out."

Harry slowly retracts his arms from where they were limply hanging near his stomach and raises them opposite his chest, staring at Louis with sad eyes like  _look what they did to me_. His wrists are such a deep shade of red and pink that Louis wants to cry.

Hesitantly, he runs the pad of his thumb softly beneath the wire, feeling Harrys milky soft skin for the first time in too long.

That's the moment when he decides to grab the scissors from where his other hand was still holding them behind his back and ever-so-quickly snip the wire where it met Harrys skin and the place where it bound together before pulling out his pistol and aiming it straight at Axel, shoving Harry behind him with a hand to his chest. 

"Louis, you fucker!" Axel yells with wild eyes, a thick vein protruding from his neck where he makes to run for his briefcase. He only gets half-way there before Zayn pulls a gun of his own from his place behind Axel where he snuck off to earlier, pointing it to his head. Axel stops in his tracks, holding his hands above his head. He knows he's outnumbered. (Louis honestly has no idea where Zayn got his own gun from or how he also managed to sneak it into Brazil, but right now he's very thankful.)

"Get on the fucking floor before I blow your non-existent brains out." Zayn whispers firmly into Axels ear, shoving him roughly in the back with the head of the pistol. Niall looks like he's just about peed himself and Liam's standing in Axels old place, leaning on the door frame with a bewildered yet amused expression, arms crossed above his chest.

The latter only worsens when the three guards from earlier barge into the room with guns.

Once they notice Axels position on the floor and Louis and Zayns' own guns pointed at his head, one of them reloads their pistol and aims for Harry, who's now hiding behind the bathroom door frame, before pulling the trigger.

 

 

It misses Harrys face by a millimetre, causing him to stumble back before slamming the door.

Louis' eyes snap up almost immediately to meet the person responsible, turning his pistol on him instead. "Axel," he sneers, "tell your fat gimp of a bodyguard to back off of Harry and I before I blow your fuckin' head in." 

"No can do, Louis. The cops will be well on their way by now." He almost grins, save for Zayn hitting him on the back of the head with the butt of his pistol, knocking him out cold. "Sorry, he was getting on my last nerve." he shrugs, pointing his gun back to one of the threats.

By now, Liam's grabbed a gun from Axels' suitcase and is also aiming, the men looking like a deer caught in the headlights. And it's three against three.

It's gotten rather dark, Louis notices. He wonders how long they've been in the hotel but is once again snapped from his thoughts when he hears Liam speak in his calm work voice, the voice he uses to manipulate others into thinking he's not at all a threat. A smart boy, Liam is. Louis is proud of him.

"Sorry, I can't help but notice you've got a-wedding ring, is it?" Liam points out nonchalantly, dropping his gun to the right of him, well out of the men and his' reach. "Mind if I take a look?"

The other two gaze at each other confusedly, brows knitted into a frown, before one murmurs towards the target in front; "go, we've got your back."

The man walks hesitantly, Liam smiling his fake, charming smile before gesturing for him to hold out his hand. 

Once he does so, Louis can only see a blur before Liam has the mans' arm knotted behind his own back, the threats' gun dropping to the floor with a loud thud, and a blade lining up to his neck.

"There's honestly no point," Zayn shrugs while eyeing up the two with those intimidating brown eyes of his, craning his neck a little, "you may as well just surrender now or Liam's going to kill your buddy here. Isn't that right, love?" Without further ado, the two remaining roaches drop their weapons and lower to their knees with hands behind their backs. "Come on now lads," Louis snickers, "we're not cops."

"No, but they're on their way in less than two minutes." Liam points out, roughly shoving the man away whose blade he merely had stretched across his neck. "We need to go. Like, now. Gather Harry, I booked another plane on my phone while we were in the elevator earlier." Bless Liam and his knack for thinking ahead. It takes a long time for them to get Harry out of the bathroom, but eventually they do.

 

 

The plane ride back to New York bumbles by slowly, the five barely managing to avoid the cops, passing them in the hall during their escape.

_("Hey," one of the uniformed officers paused, grabbing Zayns wrist lightly, "did you hear any gun-shots earlier? Or yelling?" Louis thought they were doomed before Zayn shrugged and half-smirked. "No, but I do believe those pants look quite tight on you," he'd whisper, low into the officers' ear._

_Louis swore he saw him blush. A police officer! Blushing! Who would've thought!_

_"I'd like to see you take them off some time," Zayn continued, batting his long eyelashes effortlessly. Curse him and his looks and his talent for somehow guessing who's gay or not. He's right almost ninety nine percent of the time._

_"You go on, I'll catch up later." the man had called, waving the other officer away. And that's about all the time they needed for Louis to request an Uber on the app before Zayn charmed his way out of dinner and a movie.)_

Liam and Zayn hug Louis goodbye and leave as the remaining three bustle back into Harry and Nialls' home, Niall dragging Harry into the kitchen to rub ointment onto his wrists as soon as they enter. Louis knows what's coming, but truth be told; he doesn't want to face it. He's so used to running from his problems rather than battle them.

It's after Harry pads into the lounge and flops onto the couch, tiredly flipping through the channels, that Niall gives him the  _'we're talking now, and you know exactly what we're going to talk about'_ look before nodding his head in the general direction of his bedroom.

"Give it to me straight, Doc." Louis sighs, sitting on the edge of Nialls bed once they enter. It smells like Hugo Boss and there's shoes littering the floor, the majority being high tops or sneakers.  He usually wins his battles with sarcasm and turning the conversation around. He's not sure how well it'll work with Niall, though.

"First off, get the fuck off of my bed," Louis does so without question, raising his hands in a mock surrender, "and secondly,  _Louis_ , we're not playing games here. After that whole hoax-thing or whatever the fuck it was, I don't want you to see Harry again. Got it?" He waits for Louis to say anything, and when he doesn't, he continues. "Thirdly, you didn't even give the ten thousand you gained to Axel, anyway." Well, that part is true. "The cops ended up arresting him for breaking and entering and damaging the hotel's property. Thirdly,"  _how long is this going to go on?_ Louis thinks, because he is that much childish, "I told Harry about what you did with your stripper instructor, because he deserves to know. And you've hurt him in more ways than I can imagine, Louis. I know how happy you make him, but this relationship is toxic, and unless you get your head out of your fucking arse, I forbid you from seeing Harry. This isn't a deal, it's a promise."

Louis is at a loss for words, because all of the things Niall said are true, he completely fucked over his relationship with Harry by sleeping with his stripper instructor and he had little idea of how Harry felt about him. The thing that hurt the most hearing was  _'this relationship is toxic'_  and  _'you've hurt him in more ways than I can imagine'_.

"Okay," Louis huffs out, breathing from his nose, "okay."

 

 

 

He texts Harry later that night after returning to his house, and is surprised when he gets a reply in less than two minutes.

_I'm sorry , Curly ._

_Go away._

That one message sits uncomfortably in Louis' chest and stings a bit, but Louis figures he deserves it.

_Okay , I'll leave you be_

_No, you won't._

_What do you mean ??_

_I'm pissed at you. Very pissed. And I'm coming over to get some things off my chest._

Well then, that's settled.

 

 

Harry comes around twenty minutes later, and when Louis opens the door the one thing he does  _not_ expect was for his lips to be attacked in a desperate and hungry kiss from Harry, the boy himself kicking the door shut behind him before ripping his own coat off and throwing it behind him carelessly, pinning Louis up against the wall. "Harry what are you-" Louis stutters, utterly confused but no doubt sporting a hard-on in his trackies. "Shut. Up." Harry says between kisses, hand trailing lower and lower down his torso over Louis' white shirt, before palming his bulge with need. " _God,_ you're begging for it aren't you, Louis?" he mumbles, dipping his head down to kiss Louis' exposed neck, Harrys curls tickling his nose.

"Wait, wait. Haz," he tries to whisper but it comes out a groan when Harrys hands cup one of Louis' balls beneath his pants, kneading it with light touches. 

"Ah-mm, what was that, Louis?" he chuckles lowly, daring to look into Louis' eyes while sucking on his pert nipple, one hand holding firmly onto the wall next to Louis' waist and the other stroking Louis' leaking cock, and  _Christ,_ Harry looks absolutely obscene like this, for Louis. His Harry almost kneeling on the floor for him. That just about triggers it as he comes into Harrys hands, letting out a high-pitched whimper as both of his hands grab onto the solid wall for dear life.

Harry smiles smugly, standing up properly in front of Louis and pulling his hand out of his pants, tugging them up to his waist where they fell a little past his pelvis before putting a come-drenched finger into his mouth and sucking dramatically, batting his eyelashes and all.

"Don't be a tease." Louis scoffs playfully, hitting Harry in the shoulder where he's still against the wall. "Also,  _please_  wash your hands when you get home, Niall might notice." Louis grins, biting his closed fist and giggling into it.

"I'm gonna miss you, Lou." Harry suddenly mumbles, leaning in close and pressing his forehead gently on Louis' shoulder. 

"I know Niall told you what I did, and I-I'm so sorry Haz, I swear I didn-" Louis whispers back hoarsely, hesitantly running a hand through the chestnut locks of curls that he's come to love.

"No no, shh. It's alright Louis. You have... feelings that you need to take care of." Harry replies weakly.

"Harry." he almost sobs, Harry not saying anything. "Hey," Louis pulls him that much closer, pressing a tentative kiss to his favourite boys' temple, "I really am sorry, I didn't know where we stood and-things have been so complicated recently and-" he's silently crying now, holding Harry like his life depended on it. 

"What did I do to get someone as amazing as you?" Louis whispers mostly to himself, blinking heavily. Thick streams of tears begin rolling down his soft cheeks. Harry's too good to him. Louis had sex with two different people within the same week, and yet Harry is willing to take him back just like that. He's so glad Harry can't see him right now crying, he seems too buried in the hollow of Louis' collarbones, breathing in his warmth.

A loud vibration in Harrys pocket startles them both, Harry detaching himself and looking at Louis with a face full of concern. "Lou, have you been crying?" he wipes one last stray tear that falls, Louis smiling sadly. 

Harrys phone buzzes again. 

"Answer it, love. You should be heading home, anyway. Niall will be wondering where you are." Louis laughs sadly as Harry grins, pressing the answer button but not moving from in front of Louis.

"Mhm-yes, I'm fine, mum-yes, alright! Okay. Tomorrow night?" he frowns, glancing at the floor then back to Louis. "Maybe-ugh, alright, yes! Goodbye mum."

"Wait, that was your mum?" Louis inquires, craning his neck. 

"No, that was Niall." 

They're both sent into fits of giggles before Harry leans in for a chaste kiss on the forehead and a hug, grinning widely before opening the front door. "I told Niall I was talking to Nick, so he called Nick and Nick had no idea where I was!" Harry giggles one last time, brushing Louis' cheek once more, Louis' eyes fluttering shut at the touch.

"You're so beautiful, Louis." he says in a serious tone, green eyes gazing into blue.

 _"Merci._  Now, go to bed. It's late."

"Okay," Harry smiles with a dimplish grin, reaching down to quickly kiss Louis' nose, "bye, Lou."

Louis laughs, and that makes Harry's face beam all the more brighter as his favourite boy stares at him with his doe eyes. "Bye, Harry."

 

 

It's quite funny, really, how much Louis and Harry have snuck around seeing each other being Nialls' back. The poor Irish lad doesn't have a clue. Harry feels like he's sixteen all over again, sneaking out under his mothers' nose. Only this time it's a rowdy nineteen year old man-child that enjoys spooning and partying that comes to know as this hypothetical mother and best friend to Harry. They've been at it for a while, a few weeks so far and have only nearly gotten caught once when Harry is about to head out 'clubbing' one night, sending Niall a quick text on his drive there once he stops at a red light.

_Hey, Ni. About to head out to Bossa. Won't be home until tomorrow probably .x_

_Mate, what t hell ! You couldve invited me , ass ! Come back nd pick me up ._

_Can't._ Mid-typing, Harry thinks of a lie as the light goes green, dropping his phone in his lap to concentrate on the road as he takes the memorised route to Louis' house. Once he's pulled up to his drive-way and parked his truck, he picks up his phone and continues his sentence.  _Already there. Line is packed, I'm one of the last few. See you tomorrow? .x_

He looks out and notices Louis opening the door in just his briefs, watching Harry curiously inside his car and waiting for him to come inside patiently.

As said-Harry opens the truck door and closes it walking over to Louis with a dimpled grin, his phone beeps again.

_Fuck you man_

If Harry had known any better he would think Niall was being serious.

_You know what_

_Me and Barbara are gona make love tonite_

_On t couch !_

_Where you sit !_

Harry snorts, showing Louis the texts who erupts into a fit of giggles while biting his knuckles.

Shooting a quick text back;  _Please clean up after yourself and use protection .x_ , Harry pockets his phone and follows Louis inside his warm home to greet Stanley, who starts sniffing between his legs.  _  
_

"Dinner and a movie would be nice, thanks, Stan." Harry mumbles once Louis closes the door, not realising he has actual ears and heard him. "Nickname basis already?  _Now_ I'm jealous." Louis teases, picking up a squeaky toy and throwing it across the hall where Stanley runs to fetch it.

"Quick, upstairs before he catches my boy!" he yells, tugging Harry by the wrist and taking two steps at a time before flopping onto his king-sized bed once he's closed the door.

"Mind telling me again why you're only in your briefs? Which--compliment your arse  _very_ nicely, might I add." Harry hums, mock-ogling with wide eyes before letting out a screech when Louis huffs and tickles under his arms, pulling him down onto the bed with him and wrapping both legs around his waist like a koala, shoving his nose into the back of Harrys' neck. Is he-- _sniffing_  him? "Shut up. Let's cuddle. And try not to get too hard with my beautiful bum less than a metre away." he adds playfully, reaching around to smack his own arse with a loud clap that hits the silent air. 

It's only around 8:00pm, but they nap for what feels like hours. (It being only a mere twenty minutes. Louis likes to over-exaggerate things, Harry's noticed.)

"Wake up sleeping beauty, I wanna play FIFA!" Louis whisper/yells, straddling his thighs before smacking Harry lightly on the face with both hands before kneading it randomly, forcing Harry to 'smile' then 'frown' when he plays with his cheeks. Harry's still half-asleep when he subconsciously arches the lower half of his body up and grunting, not noticing Louis' eyes trailing the visible hard-on in his tight jeans when his hips flop back down on the soft mattress.

"Well, that's a sight to see." Louis coughs, his voice getting higher towards the end of talking.

"Wha?" Harry mumbles, unaware of his downstairs problem before cracking an eye open and following Louis' gaze. "Oh!" he moves to cover it but Louis.. smacks his hand away?

"No touching yourself. Let me help." he glances at Harry, eyes a darker shade of blue than earlier. 

Harry and Louis stare at each other for a few minutes before he notices Louis' waiting for approval. Half way through nodding his head, Louis' dainty hands are already pulling both his jeans and briefs down in one smooth motion, licking his own hand before rubbing at the head of Harrys' cock and smearing pre-come all over it, pumping slowly while twisting his wrist the right way every now and then. 

"Tease." Harry glares playfully, earning a smirk from the beautiful boy above him. "Louis, I'm--"

"Don't come." he cuts in, pausing mid-stroke.

"What--?" Harry growls when Louis stops. "Why? Keep going. Please."

"Nope. If you come I'll make you sleep in the dog kennel."

 _"Louis."_ Harry deadpans as the blue-eyed man above him continues to pump his cock in a slow steady rhythm above him.

"Harry." Louis replies like he has no idea what Harry's talking about. He can feel that warm feeling building up in his stomach, knowing it's only a mere twenty or so seconds before he comes.

"Lou, 'm--"

"Nope." And with that, all trace of Louis' warm hands are off Harrys' cock when he bounces away from him and is now shuffling through his bottom drawers. 

"Monopoly, or Scrabble?" Louis grins towards Harry, who still has his cock achingly hard and thick against his own stomach.

"I hate you."

 

 

The next day, Niall gives him an earful.

"What the hell, H! Ditching me for the club!" he yells just as Harry steps through the door. "Did you pick up any hot guys?" Niall adds, a hint of softness and curiosity to his voice.

"No, Ni, I didn't. Did you and Barbara make sweet love on the couch?" Harry grins, dodging Nialls attempt at sacking him in the balls. 

"Seriously, though. What did you even do at-" his sentence is interrupted when there's a knock at the door. Pushing Niall over the back of the arm-rest so he falls on the couch, (payback's a bitch.) Harry runs to the door and opens it to see Liam and Zayn standing in casual clothes.

They look weird, Harrys' only ever seen them in dark suits. He pushes the latter to the back of his mind and steps aside for them to enter. "Helloo? How can we help you?" he inquires, shooing Niall into the kitchen to prepare some tea.

"Hi, Harry." Liam smiles. Something feels off about this situation. "We'd like to speak to you alone, if that's alright?"

Harry glances towards the kitchen where Niall is putting way too much sugar in his tea, his tongue poking out slightly in determination. "Um, sure. Come into my room." Harry smiles weakly, leading them towards the hall where his room is located on the right before sitting on the end of his bed in the middle, playing with a stray hem from his duvet while Liam closes the door and stands in front of him a few metres away. 

"So, this is about Louis." Zayn coughs, glancing towards Liam. Harry can feel his heart beating faster as the seconds pass in utter silence. 

Regaining his posture and attemping to relax, he swallows and licks at his chapped lips before speaking. "Okay? If this is about me seeing him behind Nialls' back I swear I can stop." he rushes the last part and glances away in embarrassment. 

"Well actually it's about--wait--you've been seeing Louis behind Nialls' back? Why?" Liam stutters, furrowing his brows in confusion. By this time, Zayn's wandering around the small room, running his index finger over a few old books and testing the dressing table to see if there's any dust. "Well," Harry begins, still looking at Zayn in curiosity. Turning his head back to Liam, he coughs once more. "Niall doesn't want me seeing Louis because he thinks he's a bad influence after the whole--" Harry hesitates, but Liams' eyes look so big and brown and soft so he forces himself to continue. "Axel thing and--" Harry sighs loudly. "I don't know. I guess he kind of hurt me a bit when he fucked his stripping instructor while he was trying to get money to win me back from Axel but--God--I just  _don't know_!" his voice reaches an octave higher. Liam flinches. "I want to see him but I--I don't feel sad or anything anymore because of what he did, but I just--I want us to be good again. I like him. As a friend. He's nice and he's surprisingly good at Scrabble and he said his favourite colour was the colour of my eyes and--he just makes me feel so happy. I just don't know what to do. What do I do, Liam?" Harry finishes his rant with an exhasperated sigh and a flail of his hands, dropping them onto his bed and dropping eye contact to draw invisible patterns on the blank light pink sheet.

"That was certainly a mouthful," Liam deadpans, but there's a small smirk on his face when Harry looks up with an unreadable expression. "Louis just wanted to know if you'd have dinner with him tomorrow night, and he wants to know where you two stand, because as far as he's concerned right now you're friends with benefits."

Ugh. The word 'friends with benefits' leaves a nasty taste in Harrys' mouth. He hates it. 

Wait.

Dinner? With Louis?

"Dinner?" Harry says slowly as Zayn comes back to nudge Liam lightly in the shoulder with what looks like fondness and pride. Liam nods and grins, eyes crinkling.  "With--" Harry starts, but Zayn cuts him off. "Louis. Yes. He's excited and it gives you time to talk things over, just the two of you." Zayn almost looks excited himself. This whole situation is sketchy. Where's Niall? He should be done with his overly-sugared tea by now.

"Okay, I guess I'll go to dinner with him.." he hums, "and by the way, we're just friends. No funny business involved." 

Liam and Zayn look somewhat pointedly at Harry, as if saying,  _we really doubt that_ , before grinning up to their ears and pulling him into a bear hug.

"He'll pick you up at eight," Liam grins while him and Zayn step back, and when Harry begins to protest, he continues. "We have Niall sorted, he'll be going out with a few of our mates called Ed and ah--what's her name, Zayn?"

The raven-haired man seems to have spaced out looking at Harry before snapping back to reality. "Barba-" 

"Yes! Barbara! That's her name. Thank you, love." he plants a kiss to Zayns' temple and scoots closer to rub an arm up and down his sides. Zayn looks to be..  _blushing?_

"Her last name doesn't happen to be.. Palvin, does it?" Harry winces. He definitely hope it isn't who he thinks it is. 

Liam gives him a quizzical expression before smiling once more. "Yes, that's her last name. I'm surprised you know her!"

Harry rubs his temples and closes his eyes, letting all of this process and making a mental list in his head.

1\. Barbara's most likely in the drug-dealing business or a potential spy.

2\. He's going on a date with Louis tomorrow night.

3\. Barbara and Louis know each other.

4\. Liam and Zayn look way too comfortable to be just friends.

5\. He has to tell Niall about his girlfriend.

6\. Fuck it all.

 

 

The next day, Harry thinks of a plan to tell Niall about Barbara. But the thing is; he's not sure how he'll react. Will he brush it aside or break up with her?  _But he's so happy with her!_ Or is she a set-up to make sure they don't rat them out that  _one_ time at the abandoned warehouse in June. It's been what... three months since? Are they still up Harry and Nialls' ass about it?

"Hey, Ni. Can we talk?" Harry aks suddenly in the middle of playing FIFA. He's losing, as per usual.

"Yeah," Niall smiles, pausing the game and chucking the remote on the coffee table a hint too roughly. "What's on ye' mind?"

"Uh, you know.. Barbara?" 

"My girlfriend? Of course I know her. Seriously, H, what's going on?" he frowns, before his eyes turn frantic when Harry doesn't respond for a few minutes. "Oh god, did something happen to her? Is she okay?" That only worries Harry more about telling Niall. 

"She's a spy!" he blurts, huffing and avoiding eye-contact. It's quiet for what feels like hours before Niall squeaks out a simple: "what?"

"Well--I don't know  _for sure_ if she's a spy, but I know she's friends with Louis and Liam and Zayn." he sighs, regaining eye-contact. Nialls face looks broken and he really wishes the carpet was more interesting. "I'm sorry." Harry barely whispers.

"H-how do you know?" Nialls' lip quivers. Harry can't do this.

"Yesterday when Liam and Zayn came in, they wanted to talk to me alone. They told me I was going on a--" Shit, wait. He can't tell Niall yet. Not now. "Sorry, scratch that. They told me they know Barbara. And I--that probably means she's in the business, right?" he almost pleads, looking at Nialls teary-eyed face.

His best friend runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair and stands up, pacing behind the couch.

"Shit, H, what do I do? Does she think we'll tell the cops about June or something?" he sinks down the back of the couch, letting out muffled sobs.

Harry gets up and walks to where Niall's crouched, before sitting down beside him and basically pulling him into his lap, letting his best friend clutch onto his shirt and cry messily into his chest. "Niall, I--I'm so,  _so_  sorry. She seems so nice. I don't think she'll threaten us, would she?"

"No," Niall says, barely above a whisper, "she's too nice. She's so lovely, H. So so lovely. I thought I was in love with her, but right now I don't know how to feel." His words break Harrys' heart. "You thought you were in love with her, or you are?" 

There's a pause before Niall stops sniffing and the two make eye contact. 

"I'm definitely in love with her." 

And his eyes are so blue and round and pure, Harry sees no trace of hesitance or regret when Niall said he was in love with Barbara.

"It's okay." he mumbles after a beat, pressing his lips into Nialls hair. "We'll figure it out. You and me against the world, remember?"

Niall grins and sits up, both of their moods lightened before sighing contently and resting his head on Harrys' shoulder, where Harry begins to card his hands through Nialls soft hair.

"You and me against the world."

 

 

That night at around 7:35pm, Niall tousles Harrys hair and sods off with Ed and Barbara. Harry suggested earlier they talk it out like 'fancy shmancy adults'. Although, a bar is not that fancy in his own eyes. Half an hour later, Harry's showered and chucked on his best non-ripped skinny jeans and shirt, wearing his newest [boots](https://t.co/V1IFgBd5fY), (he'd saved up enough to buy pretty black sparkly ones) and topped the finest golden nail polish he could find before there's a knock at the door. Excitement runs through his veins as he tries his best to not look nervous and trip over while opening the door. 

Nothing could prepare him for the art that was Louis Tomlinson standing in front of him, smelling of sweet roses while wearing a cute embroided [sweater](https://t.co/fjj8J5f4qE) and plain skinny black jeans. It's good they both decided to dress casual for their first date otherwise Harry would've made a fool of himself and excuse himself quickly to change. 

"Wow." they both say simultaneously, obviously checking each other out before making eye contact.

Harry grins, and Louis mirrors the action.

"You look beautiful, Harry. I really love your nail polish." Louis blushes, suddenly looking flustered, a pink tinge painted on his cheeks. He looks adorable and small.

"Speak for yourself, Lou, you look gorgeous." That earns Harry another blush from Louis before he's being lead towards a pretty black [porsche](http://limitedslipblog.files.wordpress.com/2012/09/911-black-edition-1.jpg).

They drive for a while and reach a small dock by a secluded lake. Once they park, Louis, being the gentleman he is, quickly hops out and rounds the car to open the door for Harry. "Thank you." he grins, taking Louis' soft hand in his own as Louis closes the door and locks the car before leading Harry towards a [canoe](http://data.whicdn.com/images/202823036/superthumb.webp) that comes into view with a pretty blanket, two mugs of what appears to be cocoa, a bag and a small jar of flowers sitting in the middle. 

"I had Liam and Zayn help me set this up, hopefully the cocoa isn't cold by now. That would be embarrassing." Louis giggles, detaching himself from Harrys hand to pick up a long wooden oar laid out on the dock. Once he's satisfied, he takes Harrys hand again to carefully pull him into the canoe, making it sway soothingly from side to side.

"Do what? Drink cocoa on a boat?" Harry smiles, glancing around at their surroundings. There's lily-pads scattered among the river, few with little flowers growing over them. There doesn't seem to be any trash littered on-site, so Harry assumes this is private property. 

Louis snorts and slowly pushes the oar on the dock, making the canoe move forward steadily. 

"No, silly, I meant go on a date with you. And it's a canoe, not a boat. Learn the difference." he teases as Harry takes a tentative sip from the mug. "Nope, it's pretty warm. 'S nice." The curly-headed boy confirms, humming around his mug. They row in silence, Louis slowing down a few times to take a sip from his mug and place one of the purple flowers in Harrys hair.

"So, what's the bag for?" Harry asks after they say hello to a duck family that was swimming past. Louis smirks and gently swats his curious hand away from the bag. "We're getting there, love, don't get your panties in a twist." a pause. "Actually, I'd quite love to see you in panties."

 

 

They reach land somewhat ten minutes later from what Harry can tell, because the canoe's abruptly stopped. He's not 100% sure because Louis gathered a blind-fold earlier from his rucksack and told him to put it on without peeking. 

His suspicions are confirmed when Louis gently grasps his hand and guides him out of the boat, leading Harry up a small hill before slowly taking off his blindfold. 

Harry blinks his eyes open and--the place is--absolutely  _stunning_. "Oh my god, Lou. This is beautiful." saying he's in awe would be a massive understatement. There are fairy lights hung around the blanketed [tent](http://data.whicdn.com/images/204922261/large.jpg), and candles scattered in front of it. Soft pillows and blankets hug the clean dry grass and there's a few flowers kept in small vases off to the side.

Harry turns and hugs Louis, revelling in his warmth and happiness. "This is so... amazing. The best first date of my life." he rambles, taking in the beauty of it all. 

"It hasn't even started." Louis muses, grinning before taking his rucksack in hand beside him and motioning for Harry to enter first.

Harry toes his boots off and Louis does the same, setting their shoes to the side. "This blanket is so big soft. I could drown in it." Harry mumbles, earning a beautiful laugh from Louis, who takes champagne from his bag along with a small wheel of cheese and crackers, strawberries, and other random items before setting two plates down in front of them. "You have definitely wooed me, Lou. Yes, I will marry you." Harry clasps his hands in mock swooning, raising the back of his hand against his forehead and blinking heavily.

"Oh, hush, you." Louis winks, setting two crepes down and filling them carefully with strawberries before drizzling chocolate sauce over them. "Dessert first? How did you know!" Harry teases, before his gaze goes soft. "This is really really nice, Louis," he hums, glancing around. "You didn't have to do this much for me. Dinner and a movie would've been fine." 

"But you see, Harry, I don't fool around when I like someone." Louis smirks, picking up his crepe and taking a small bite, Harry mirroring the action before closing his eyes and leaning his head back. "This tastes like an orgasm."

"Ew, gross. But thank you." Louis smiles around a mouth full of crepe, chocolate sauce drizzling down his chin. "We're a right mess, aren't we, Haz?" he chuckles, sticking his tongue out as far as it can go to lap up the sweet liquid. 

Harry doesn't think when he leans forward and swipes the sauce from Louis' chin with his thumb, before putting it in his own mouth. "Mmm, sweet as tupelo honey." he grins, leaning back and taking a sip from his wine.

"Was that a Van Morrison reference?" Louis raises his eyebrows with wide blue eyes and, god, Harry could smother him right then and there.

"Maybe." he smirks.

 

 

A few hours and wine glasses later, things begin to get deep.

"So, tell me about yourself, ol' Louis." Harry waggles his eyebrows suggestively as they both abandon their cheese and crackers to lie back and watch the sky, Louis having been forced to move the plate of food when Harrys toe accidentally got smooched in jam. 

"First of all, I'm only twenty-three. Not that old, tiny baby Haz. Second of all, fine. But you need to tell me something in return." he smirks, turning his head ever-so-slightly for them to lock eyes.

"Don't make yourself sound like a sexual predator or something." Harry snorts. "Mmm, fine. I'll go first just to be nice. Let me think...ah! I was born in Holmes Chapel and moved to New York when I was sixteen after my mum died." that earns a sympathetic look from Louis so Harry shrugs and continues. "It's fine, though, I had my sister Gem to help me. Money was tight for a bit, and my grandparents wouldn't give their money to a gay teenager so they gave it to Gem who gave the money to me once she found a stable job. Bless her." it's silent for a while before Harry sighs and laughs sub-consciously. "Your turn."

"Well." Louis laughs weakly, coughing before continuing. "I grew up in Lyon, France. I lived in a small house with two pesky sisters, Charlotte and Felicite with me mum. Me dad fucked off when I was two so I don't really care about 'im. Let's see... When I was ten I moved to Doncaster in England where me mum got married and had two more pesky sisters, Daisy and Phoebe. Love them all the same, though. Then when I turned seventeen and gathered enough money to move to New York, I found Zayn. I had no money back after that, used it all on the plane ride. I just wanted to get out of Doncaster because me mums' boyfriend was a right twat. Not to mention mum was about to kick me out anyway. Called me a faggot and such. Anyway, Z found me on the street--I slept in alleys mind you, not kidding when I said I had absolutely no money. Only spoke little English so it was a bit annoyin' at first. He took me under his wing and introduced me to Liam, showed me how to handle a gun, decipher between cocaine and baking soda--new stuff, you know? I got the hang of it and soon enough I was on top of the food chain, lots of people owing me money, so I pampered me-self basically. Lost me virginity at seventeen to a fourty-year-old fart in a cheap motel for fifty dollars, but--Harry, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Harry doesn't soak in the last words for a few seconds before his head turns to the side quickly, almost giving himself whiplash. "Louis--you don't mean that, do you?" he asks with a trace of uncertainty.

"'Course I do, don't be silly. You make me so, so happy, Harry. I've been through a lot, like you, and--I guess you just make things feel better. Lighter. I just want to thank you."

Harry can't help the silent tears fall down his cheek and onto the blanket. "I'm sorry you've been through so much, Louis. You're so brave and strong and--"  _I love you._ "I'm so proud of you."

 

 

They both fall asleep that night, tangled in a blanket of limbs and soft skin, and Harry's never felt so in love. 


End file.
